


Torchwood - The Bridges

by LoveTheCoat (thesalmondean)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Doctor Who (just barely), M/M, Season 2, Tenth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 66,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesalmondean/pseuds/LoveTheCoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These chapters represent individual scenes and moments, or several scenes and moments, that occur between the episodes; filling in the blanks of the development of Jack and Ianto's relationship over seasons 1 and 2. To bridge the gaps, as it were.</p>
<p>No warnings given as scenes, language and action included are comparable to what was seen in the show. Sexual situations are more explicit, but always consensual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And so it begins...

**Author's Note:**

> Alternating POV by chapter, and I'm experimenting with various styles of writing for certain chapters.

Ianto placed the glove and the knife into the metal box, feeling the eyes of the others watching. Securing the lock on the box, he moved to the safe and slid it into the narrow opening.

Ianto turned to Jack, his eyes moving quickly from Jack’s blank expression to Gwen and back again. Gwen had already been retconned once. Ianto wondered if Jack would do it again.  He sensed not.

Movement from the doorway caught Ianto’s attention and he turned in time to see both Tosh and Owen place artifacts onto Jack’s desk. Ianto recognized them both; the translating/transcribing device Tosh returned had been acquired by Torchwood on Ianto’s third day. Ianto distinctly remembered cataloging it and placing it in the archives. Tosh must’ve been desperate to get her hands on it if she’d gone down there to retrieve it.

The spray Owen pilfered had been recovered about a month prior. The alien they’d taken it from had come through the rift already dead and clutching the bottle in its cold, three-fingered hand.  Only after Ianto was accidentally sprayed while trying to disentangle the bottle from the alien grip did the team discover its effects.  No sooner had the mist settled on Ianto than he found himself bombarded with attention. The whole team had come on to him in one way or another. Jack had grown a bit aggressive, chasing Ianto through the Hub until he finally had to lock Jack in the vaults until the effects wore off. 

Ianto handled the entire situation with his trademark calm. The flirtation from everyone but Jack was mostly innocent in nature due to the small amount of spray that actually permeated Ianto’s skin. Everyone had been suitably embarrassed when they’d recovered their senses, everyone except Jack. He’d made no apologies, and even acted a little affronted that Ianto had locked him up instead of taking advantage of his attentions.

Ianto kept his eyes on Jack as Owen and Tosh handed over the alien property, property that was supposed to stay in the Hub, secure in the archives.  Ianto flinched as Jack’s cold eyes suddenly turned to him, the unasked question clear in his expression. Ianto simply shook his head. He had no need to take pieces of alien tech home with him; he was using and abusing his position at Torchwood from within.

All that protected Ianto from the overwhelming guilt of what he was doing was the hope of healing Lisa and restoring their love. In the short time he’d been in Cardiff and at Torchwood Three, he’d grown to genuinely care for his fellow team-members as if they were family; even if they ignored him most of the time. A small part of Ianto liked not being noticed. It made his deception easier when his movements around the Hub weren’t questioned.  It was lonely, though. He wasn’t invited out for a pint, no one asked how his weekend was. There was a camaraderie between them all that Ianto hadn’t been invited into yet. Maybe because he was still the “new guy”; Ianto didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he cared either. It seemed to him that life without Lisa wasn’t worth living, so when he wasn’t sleeping he spent his time either working or with her.  Still he relied on the presence of the team to keep him grounded. He relied on Owen’s razor sharp snark and Tosh’s gentle, reaffirming smile. He relied on Jack’s leadership and take charge demeanor; and he had relied on Suzie’s quick wit. Ianto’s eyes moved once more to Gwen, curious. She was watching Jack with eyes so wide Ianto wondered how they didn’t fall out of her head.

“This can’t happen again,” Jack said coldly as his eyes moved over them all.

“You; any of you, take anything from here again without my knowledge and permission, the next time you wake you won’t remember anything after your first day of primary school.”

Ianto felt a rush of heat flame up his neck as an image of Lisa lying in the basement of the Hub, a half-converted cyberman, flashed before his eyes.

Jack gathered up the items and placed them roughly into the safe, slamming the iron door closed and spinning the dial.

“Ianto, I’ll take care of those later,” Jack said stiffly as Ianto nodded in acknowledgement, preoccupied with his guilt. He wondered how long he could keep Lisa a secret.  The wrath of Jack was something Ianto did not want to acquaint himself with anytime soon yet he feared his window of opportunity was getting shorter. He made a silent vow to be more proactive in seeking out help for Lisa.

“Gwen, with me,” Jack called as he strode out of his office, greatcoat in hand. Gwen stood awkwardly for a moment, looking at Ianto and the others before offering an apologetic smile and rushing to follow Jack out the rolling cog door.

"Fuck,” Owen snarled under his breath as he turned and moved to his station. Tosh followed him silently and Ianto noticed she looked crestfallen.

“Coffee?” Ianto inquired, trailing them and pausing between the two desks. Even though the hour was late and caffeine would only wind them all up it was all he could think to do. It was all he was really expected to do.

“No,” Tosh said quietly, looking the part of a chastised child as she shrugged on her jacket, “See you tomorrow.”

Ianto looked to Owen and he just shook his head, frowning as he stretched a rubber band in his hands. Ianto retreated to the archives, leaving Owen to do what he would.

Standing in the doorway of the archives Ianto wondered what would happen next. Would Jack return and inform them he’d recruited Gwen to take Suzie’s place? Or would he return to a team of only three, having slipped Gwen another retcon pill? Ianto wasn’t sure which scenario he hoped for. Having a body to replace the loss of Suzie would help the team, but for Ianto it meant learning new work patterns, memorizing a new schedule, making friends; and he’d have to learn her coffee order. It was a simple thing but for some reason it was also the thing Ianto dreaded most.

Ianto sighed heavily and walked slowly into the darkened room, triggering the motion sensors. Harsh fluorescent lights started flickering to life along the main walkway, their buzz filling the air. 

Judging by the way Gwen and Jack had looked at one another Ianto felt certain when he next saw Jack he’d be instructed to set Gwen up in the Hub. Ianto stopped as he saw a stack of files that had been pulled out of place and left unceremoniously piled on the floor. A feeling that could be anger or maybe jealousy suddenly hit Ianto as he put the files back in their proper place, cursing Jack under his breath. He knew Jack had left the mess; Ianto had seen Tosh clear up after herself, and Owen never came down to the archives. Jack though; Jack never put things back where he got them.  Jack always left his messes for Ianto to clear up.

Did he do it to get Ianto’s attention? Sometimes he must, but mostly Ianto just thought Jack was too used to being taken care of. Unless it was tracking down aliens with guns and cars, Jack couldn’t be bothered. He had lost count after his first week of how many incident reports he’d had to take back to Jack to be more thoroughly filled out. Jack was never angry though. In fact, he always smiled and asked Ianto to sit while he would quickly scribble a few lines, or add his missing signature.

Ianto wasn’t an idiot, and he knew full well that Jack enjoyed flirting with him and making lewd comments and suggestions. Almost daily he would say something about Ianto’s clothing, or his hair, or his cologne. Ianto took it in stride, because he’d come to realize that was just Jack being Jack, and Jack flirted with everyone, even Owen on occasion. Ianto did notice that the frequency of comments made to Tosh and Owen paled in comparison to the frequency of comments made Ianto’s way. Maybe it was because he was still the “new kid” and like a child with a new toy he got the most attention. Or maybe Jack, who seemed to fall outside of any sexual label Ianto could think of, was genuinely attracted to him. In either case, Ianto realized quickly that he enjoyed having Jack’s attention and the addition of Gwen would remove Ianto from his place; Gwen would be the new toy. Ianto felt jealous anger rise in him again as he resumed his long walk down the center aisle of the archives headed towards the far end where he’d set several rat traps.

“Stupid fuck,” Ianto whispered as he checked the traps.

Ianto was very much a creature of habit, and with certain change on the horizon he found his emotions running high. Channeled the frustration and anger and sadness and blocking out the strange noises that permeated the Hub at night, Ianto set to work organizing and filing, his only escape from his own mad world.

No matter what he did though, he couldn’t control the one emotion he wasn’t used to; and the green-eyed monster refused to back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, near midnight, Ianto began to make his way home for a few hours of what he knew would be restless sleep before he came back again. He’d checked Lisa, and she was still in supported stasis, kept alive by the hodge-podge conversion unit. He’d sat by her side for awhile as he told her about his day, and about Gwen. It was cathartic. He felt free to tell Lisa everything; though he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he kept Jack’s flirtations to himself. He thought Lisa might find it funny, were she awake to understand. He could only bring her to consciousness for a few hours a day, and he didn’t want to spend those hours gossiping about his boss. So Ianto kept silent about Jack, and instead while she was awake he told her about Torchwood Cardiff and all its fantastical, rift-related elements and activities.

Walking up the short flight of stairs next to the water sculpture to get his overcoat, Ianto started at the sound of Jacks voice.

“Working late?” Jack asked as he leaned casually against the doorframe of his office, hands in his trouser pockets.  The blind anger that Jack had shown earlier was now gone, replaced by a teasing smirk. He had taken off his blue button down shirt and was wearing only a plain white tee, though it was still tucked in. Dark blue braces were hanging at his sides.

Ianto had realized after two days at Torchwood that Jack lived in the Hub. It hadn’t come up in his research, and he always wondered where Jack laid his head at night. It had never occurred to him that Jack slept in the Hub. It had thrown a wrench into Ianto’s plans to get Lisa settled into the basement, but all it had taken was one long day of the team out chasing a gang of Weevils for Ianto to temporarily deactivate the CCTV and get Lisa installed. He then manipulated the angles of the basement cameras just enough so if Ianto hugged the walls he could get to Lisa’s chamber unseen. No one had noticed the changes yet and Ianto didn’t think they ever would.

“Headed home now, sir,” Ianto said as he slid his jacket on, avoiding the stare of the other man.

“Before you go,” Jack stepped out of the doorway and moved to the tattered sofa, perching on the arm with one leg up on the cushion, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knee. Ianto watched the white fabric of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate Jack’s wide shoulders. Ianto quickly shifted his eyes to Jack’s face, finding that a bit less distracting.

“I’ve asked Gwen to join Torchwood,” Jack said, his eyes holding gaze with Ianto.

“I’ll make sure she has complete server access,” Ianto replied with as little emotion as possible. He was not at all surprised by Jack’s announcement.

“She’s not starting for a few days,” Jack added, “has to take care of things with the police. So no rush, but soon as you can.”

Jack stood then, putting his hands back in his pockets.

“Of course, sir,” Ianto smiled stiffly.

“I may need help convincing Owen and Tosh,” Jack looked over at the two darkened workstations.

“I’ll do what I can to help, sir,” Ianto said, knowing nothing he could say could persuade an opinion of Owen’s.

“Great,” Jack nodded, still watching Ianto closely.

“I’ll see you in the morning, sir,” Ianto turned then, and feeling Jack’s eyes still on him, left the Hub.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen’s voice was rising in pitch and Ianto could only assume that Jack had just told him about Gwen joining the team.

Ianto flashed back to his first day at Torchwood Three. Tosh and Suzie had been very welcoming, showing him around and presenting him with a small bouquet of flowers which Ianto left on the counter in the Tourism Office. They lived for nearly three weeks before Ianto had to throw them out.

Owen, upon Ianto’s arrival, had been obnoxious and rude. The way he was most of the time, Ianto now knew. That first day had been a never-ending parade of Owen commenting on Ianto’s choice of attire (a suit, of course) and his proper manners, his Welsh roots, his affinity for the pterodactyl, and his coffee. Jack laughed along with Owen at Ianto’s expense, but after Owen retreated to the vaults to get some tissue samples from their newest resident, Jack grinned widely at Ianto and told him once again that he really liked the suit. A wink quickly followed and then Jack was retreating to his desk. Ianto had laughed nervously, his skin hot with embarrassment and anger as he wondered what kind of team he’d signed on with.

The first week was a bit rough. Jack continued to make flirtatious comments while Owen made just as many rude ones as well as deciding he would play a few practical jokes. The morning of his second day Ianto found the Hub’s entire collection of coffee mugs super-glued to the wall, requiring Ianto to purchase all new mugs since he could not remove the old without breaking them-which he did that night after everyone had gone, imagining they were Owen’s face as he worked out his anger.  

A few days later Owen rigged a balloon to explode when Ianto came through the cog door, covering him in alien slime. Owen, after his laughter had subsided, claimed it was harmless goop but even after showering and changing clothes Ianto felt uncomfortably itchy the rest of the day.

What had finally put an end to Owen’s tormenting was when Ianto saved him from being mauled by a Weevil. Ianto happened to be in the vaults, checking on a tentacled creature they had in captivity when Jack and Owen had come bursting through the door with two snarling Weevils in tow. Ianto opened the cell doors and watched as Jack smoothly tossed his in. Owen, catching his toe in the lip of the doorframe, stumbled and his Weevil broke free, instantly turning on Owen with teeth bared as it lunged for Owen’s jugular. Ianto didn’t even pause to think as he pulled his sidearm and shot the Weevil, point-blank range in the head, dropping it mere centimeters from Owen.

The post-gunshot silence was deafening as Ianto holstered his weapon and Jack and Owen just stared somewhat awkwardly at Ianto.  When he’d gathered his wits about him, Owen had offered Ianto a cursory nod and he’d taken off, leaving the Weevil dead and bleeding on the floor. Jack had clapped Ianto on the shoulder and given him a broad grin as he followed Owen. Ianto, as he learned was to be the norm for the next several months, was left to clean up the mess.

Owen stopped playing practical jokes or making obscenely rude comments after that day, though Ianto could occasionally still hear a hint of sarcasm when Owen spoke to him.

Approaching the board room with a tray of coffees in hand, Ianto could hear Tosh trying to calm Owen down.

“What the fuck, Jack,” Owen was standing, leaning on his hands on the table, his face red. “Suzie’s not been dead twenty-four hours and you’ve got this, this-,” Owen sputtered, apparently unable to come up with a suitably insulting metaphor for Gwen.

Ianto set the tray on the end of the table and placed Jack’s mug before him. Jack looked back at him pointedly, and Ianto steeled himself for the wrath of Owen.

“We could use a fifth person,” Ianto said lamely as Owen turned his narrow eyes to Ianto.

“Why? All you do is fan about with coffee,” Owen turned back to Jack. “Why can’t Ianto start coming to the field with us. I’m sure he can do more than make a mocha-latte-cappuccino-whatever. This place won’t fall to pieces if he’s not here.”

Jack just shook his head while Ianto remained silent. He tried to imagine himself in the field. He’d always been an office worker; he was good at that. As much as it scared him, the idea of working in the field with the others, a small part of him thought it sounded quite romantic; working side by side with Jack, saving Cardiff and the world from aliens. But there was Lisa to consider. Ianto brought himself back to reality. He couldn’t leave Lisa alone here, or worse, with someone else wandering the Hub freely.

“Ianto’s place is here,” Jack said, “and Gwen is a police officer. She has training we can use,” Jack added.

Ianto tried not to feel insulted by Jack’s apparent lack of faith. Ianto knew he didn’t seem like much, but he’d been trained in martial arts while at Torchwood One and had been the top marksmen, outside of the field agents, at Torchwood One shooting competitions.

“You just like her because she’s gorgeous,” Owen sighed as he fell into his chair, defeated. Ianto moved towards him with his coffee, offering Tosh her mug as he passed. She had fallen silent when Ianto had come into the room.

“You’ll probably end up shagging her and then we’ll all have to deal with that drama,” Owen added, curling his lip in a sneer at Jack.

“I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Jack fired back. Ianto set Owen’s mug before him, and saw Jack’s jaw clenching, a sign of building anger.

“Jack’s right,” Tosh chimed and all three men turned to her. “We can use her police training. It’ll work out.”

Tosh smiled, as optimistic as ever. Ianto, with a nagging feeling he had let Jack down somehow, picked up the empty tray and left the board room just as Jack started in on Owen about clearing up the autopsy bay after his dissections.

Ianto spent the rest of the afternoon down in the archives, away from Owen’s scowl and Tosh’s perpetual optimism. He was deeply engrossed in reorganizing the files from 1925. Someone had thought it’d be clever to file everything alphabetically by month, than by day of the week therefore the files for that year were a complete mess. Trying to cross-reference things was becoming quite difficult. Ianto didn’t hear Jack until he was right on top of him, startling him out of his work.

“You spend too much time down here,” Jack said and Ianto jumped, his arm bumping a stack of files he was working through and sending them sliding across the floor. Ianto scrambled to his knees and started collecting the files as Jack knelt down and gathered some as well.

“Sorry,” Jack laughed.

Ianto raised his head, and found himself face to face with Jack. Ianto could feel Jack’s breath; he could smell the peppermint he knew Jack liked. Jack was staring back at him, a smile on his face. Suddenly the memory of the night they’d captured Mwyfanwy flashed in Ianto’s head and he moved away quickly, falling onto his rear as his back rammed into the file cabinet behind him. Ianto cursed under his breath as the handle of the lowest drawer jabbed sharply into his back. _That’ll leave a bruise,_ Ianto thought, wincing as he straightened and restacked the scattered files.

“Okay?” Jack asked with a hint of concern as he lowered himself to the floor across from Ianto, crossing his legs.

“Fine,” Ianto mumbled as the spot where the handle hit him burned with pain. _Definitely a bruise,_ Ianto sighed inwardly.

“You spend an awful lot of time down here alone,” Jack said, glancing at the various stacks of files around Ianto, flipping through a few of them.

“It’s a mess. Nothing was done the same from year to year,” Ianto said as the pain in his back slowly started to fade to a dull ache.

“You have to be the most dedicated archivist Torchwood has ever seen,” Jack grinned.

“Was there something you needed, sir?” Ianto asked after a long silence.  It wasn’t like Jack to simply sit on the floor with him and make small talk. In fact, Ianto could count on both hands the number of times Jack had spoken to him in private, without any of the others around.

“I wouldn’t sleep with her,” Jack said finally. Ianto paused, shocked into silence and unsure of a response was expected or not.

“I keep my personal life out of the office,” Jack added, staring at Ianto, his expression changing from amused to thoughtful.

“Sir,” Ianto started, not quite sure why Jack was sharing this with him. Jack certainly didn’t owe Ianto any explanations.

“It would be hard on the team, an office romance,” Jack looked down at his legs, his fingers picking at a loose thread on the hem of his trousers.

“I mean, if I was in love that’d be different,” Jack added, his tone a bit wistful.

“But as they say; been there, done that,” he added softly, so softly Ianto almost didn’t catch the words.

Ianto watched Jack fiddle with the loose thread. He had nothing to say, the confusion over this confession catching him off guard. Silence stretched on.  Suddenly, Jack popped up to his feet, flashing his perfectly white teeth in his characteristic grin. Ianto was getting good at reading Jack’s smiles. This one was the one he used to cover. It was a fake.

“Don’t stay down here too long,” Jack called as he turned on his heels and strode out of sight.

“What the?” Ianto whispered, not quite sure what had just happened. 


	2. In Trouble Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Day One".

“Ianto,” Jack whispered, his fingers pressing the button on his Bluetooth while he moved slowly through the maze of towering metal containers, eyes searching for movement.

There was no answer.

“Shit,” Jack lowered his hand and gripped his Webley tighter and taking a deep breath, he rounded the corner, ready for anything.

_ONE HOUR EARLIER…_

The Hub was quiet. Jack was sitting in his office, the kiss from Gwen replaying in his head. It had taken him by surprise, though it hadn’t been wholly unwelcome. He couldn’t deny he found himself attracted to her, but office romances rarely worked out in normal workplaces, let alone in a work environment such as Torchwood.

Torchwood employees rarely lived past their 30’s, the daily threat of death from something alien was very real. Sometimes that danger could lead to amazing things, as Jack knew, but mostly it led to death and disaster, which he also knew.

Then there was the fact that Jack would long outlive any romantic attachment he’d form, as he had so many times already.  His heart had grown a bit hard over the years, having to watch everyone around him die, while he carried on the same as ever. It was why, when he’d taken over Torchwood Three all those years ago, he kept his inability to stay dead hidden from his team. Keeping part of himself hidden prevented any real friendships from forming, but just like office romance in Torchwood, friendships could be just as dangerous; he’d buried many friends, too.  He lived a lonely life because of this choice and as time went on it was bound to get lonelier, but Jack didn’t see an alternative. 

He could only hope when he found the Doctor again he could finally learn how and why he was the way he was.  In the meantime, Jack was trying to keep his hands off his team but the situation wasn’t helped by the fact that they were all so damn attractive. 

“Sir?”

Jack looked up sharply, Ianto’s soft voice surprising him from his thoughts.

“I thought everyone had gone,” Jack laughed as Ianto hovered just inside the door. His hands were folded neatly in front of him and his suit was as impeccable as it had been when he’d arrived that morning. Jack wondered how he managed to stay so clean after working in the dusty archives all day.

“Just on my way,” Ianto said, “I wondered if there was anything more you required?”

Smiling, Jack looked down at his hands and any lingering thoughts of Gwen vanished.  Jack was very aware of his attraction to her, but he was also keenly aware that he felt a strong attraction to the man before him, too. 

 “No, I’m good,” Jack looked back up at Ianto, marveling at his gorgeous blue eyes.

Yes, Jack was glad he’d decided to bring Ianto on. It made Jack happy to see him every day.  Not a bad thing to come back too after a rough day wrestling Weevils; Ianto there, water in hand, ready to help and willing to do whatever Jack asked of him. It was something to Jack didn’t know he’d been missing until he had it.

“Go home,” Jack added as he stood and slid his braces off his shoulders, stretching and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He was trying but failing miserably to keep his mind from wandering as his eyes traveled the length of Ianto’s suited body.   Suddenly aware he was leering slightly at the other man, Jack straightened his expression and silently admonished himself; if he couldn’t have Gwen, then he couldn’t have Ianto either.

Suddenly an alarm sounded and without a word, Ianto moved out to one of the workstations in the main area of the Hub.

“Police are receiving a report of vandalism at Queen Alexandra Dock,” Ianto said as Jack came up behind him, looking over his shoulder at a map of Cardiff.

“Weevils?” Jack asked as Ianto quickly brought up the CCTV. They watched as two hunched-back creatures lurched through the frame, one of them swinging a large piece of wood.

“Seems to be,” Ianto replied flatly, as he glanced over his shoulder and met Jack’s eyes.

“Shall I call the others in?” Ianto added, still looking at Jack.

“No, I think you and I can handle it,” Jack said, smiling as Ianto’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Jack couldn’t help but laugh.  It had been a long day for the others, chasing Carys around Cardiff, trying to stop the alien entity possessing her from killing more men and Jack didn’t really want to drag them all back in again. It was only two Weevils, he felt certain he and Ianto could handle it.

Plus, Jack was curious. Ianto had not been to the field since he’d started at Torchwood Three and for a Weevil hunt, Jack wanted to see what Ianto could do.  After the way he’d handled himself when that Weevil had turned on Owen several months ago, Jack was sure he would be just fine. Plus, it would be a good distraction from his lingering thoughts of Gwen, who he imagined was home with her boyfriend now.

“Let’s go,” Jack clapped Ianto on the back before he returned to his office for his coat.

_NOW_

Jack rushed out from behind the containers, beginning to feel a bit guilty for dragging Ianto out on the Weevil hunt. Jack had faith that Ianto was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but he couldn’t help but worry.  After the things that he’d seen and the events he’d lived through, he knew he’d always worry about the safety of his team.

Leaning against a container, Jack listened for any sign of Ianto or the Weevils but the night was silent. He hadn’t seen nor heard the Weevils since he and Ianto had split up upon arrival, intending to circle around them and trap them from both sides of the dock. It was a tactic that had worked many times before.

“Ianto!”Jack yelled when he was unable once again to raise Ianto on the com system. His voice echoed back at him from the surrounding containers and he growled in frustration.

As if in direct response to Jack’s yell, two gunshots suddenly sounded in the night air and Jack took off, trying to triangulate their origin as the sound bounced back and forth through the maze of containers.

A loud splash soon followed the gunshots, leading Jack to the water. Standing at the edge of the loading dock Jack stared out into the dark. The night was still and the water was calm and black.  Jack paced the edge, looking for signs of Ianto or the Weevils when suddenly he heard smaller splashes and a voice calling for help.

“Some help, sir.”

Jack turned to his left and saw a soaking wet Ianto struggling to pull himself out of the water. Jack rushed towards him and helped him out of the water. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he took in the site of Ianto, who looked like a drowned rat with his suit hanging off him and his hair plastered flat against his head.

“Are you alright,” Jack asked after his laughter had subsided. Ianto just stared at him, definitely not amused.

“Fine,” he answered shortly.

“What happened?” Jack asked, trying very hard to suppress a smile as he watched Ianto shake his arms, water flying from the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“I had the two Weevils cornered when a third one came up behind me and jumped on my back. I fired my gun in the air to startle them and that’s when the bloody thing shoved me in the water,” Ianto ran his hands through his wet hair, his nose wrinkling up in disgust.

“Well that’s certainly something new,” Jack snickered. Ianto looked back at him blankly.

“On the positive side, at least all it did was toss you in the water,” Jack shrugged.

“Any sign of them?” Ianto asked, pointedly ignoring Jack’s comments and Jack shook his head.

“They must have gone back underground,” Jack watched as Ianto took off his jacket and wrung it out. He suppressed the urge to laugh again.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. Don’t want you catching pneumonia or something,” Jack shook his head with a smile and started back towards the SUV, the sound of Ianto’s squelching footsteps followed close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jack climbed the ladder from his small sleeping quarters the next morning, Ianto was already at the Hub and had Jack’s coffee ready and waiting.

Rising steam from the mug on his desk left Jack impressed. Somehow Ianto knew exactly the moment to have the coffee ready, or to be helping Jack on with his coat, or to be handing out briefing notes.  It was like he could anticipate Jack’s every move. _Another very good reason to keep him around_ , Jack thought with a sly grin.

Settling behind his desk, Jack gathered himself for another day as he caught glimpses of Ianto’s suited body through the glass wall. Jack could hear the coffee maker steaming and clanging as it worked. Ianto was moving quickly through the Hub, clearing up small bits of trash that had been missed the day before and wiping down the monitors and keyboards at the workstations. Jack smiled and wondered if the others realized Ianto did that for them. _Probably not_ , he thought, feeling a bit ashamed because he only just realized it himself.

Jack curled his fingers around his coffee mug and wandered out into the Hub.

“You’re here early,” Jack took a sip and eyed Ianto over the mug.

“Things to do, sir,” Ianto replied as he straightened a stack of forms on the corner of Owen’s workstation.

“Did you get your suit dried out?” Jack asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Ianto didn’t answer as he sighed and gave Jack a sarcastic look. It was all he could do not to laugh, so Jack sipped his coffee again, watching Ianto as he continued to straighten up. His hands moved fast and Jack couldn’t help but notice how long his fingers were; how neat his nails were kept. They were the hands of an artist, Jack thought as he recalled one lover he’d had many decades ago; he had been a painter and Jack had been his muse; he had been good with his hands. Smiling at the memory Jack noticed Ianto glancing at him questioningly.

“I’m thinking of giving Owen’s space to Gwen,” Jack said suddenly, forcing the memories from his mind as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Owen might have something to say about that,” Ianto said carefully, not looking at Jack as he continued clearing up.

“All he does is look at porn on these things anyway. He doesn’t need all this space to himself,” Jack added, watching Ianto as he moved from Owen’s space back to Tosh’s with his head low, his eyes focused on what he was doing.

“Gwen is nicer to look at than Owen, anyway,” Jack added.

There was a distinct pause in Ianto’s movements. Jack wasn’t sure what he was doing, talking about Gwen like he was. He did feel a slight perverse pleasure in the obvious discomfort it gave Ianto.

The cog door rolled open and Jack heard Owen and Tosh arguing about something as they came in.  Chuckling softly, Jack turned back to his office, glancing over his shoulder briefly to catch Ianto staring after him, his expression unreadable.

_LATER THAT DAY_

“Ianto!”

Jack’s voice echoed briefly through the Hub. He heard Myfanwy scuttle in her nest.

“IANTO!” he yelled louder eliciting an actual yelp from the winged dinosaur.

“Oi! Jack! He’s not here!” Gwen said, her face screwed up in annoyance.

“He is here,” Jack said, looking at Gwen, Tosh, and Owen each in turn. “Your desks are a mess, the containers from lunch are still on the conference room table, and the coffee maker hasn’t been cleaned yet.”

Jack watched as the others exchange glances.

“How the hell do you know all that, we just walked in the door,” Owen said, his incredulity obvious.

“I pay attention,” Jack winked and Owen rolled his eyes. Moving to his office Jack shrugged out of his coat. He was feeling anxious and on edge.

“Should I look for him?” Tosh poked her head into Jack’s office.

“No,” Jack replied as he dropped into the chair behind his desk. “Go home. Get some rest. Tell the others.”

Smiling, Tosh popped back out. Jack could hear the varied tones of his team, and a few moments later he heard Gwen call out goodnight then the cog door rolled open and closed and the Hub was silent.

Sighing heavily, Jack rested his chin on his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. It’d been bugging him all day, the brief, fleeting thoughts he’d had that morning about Ianto’s hands. Jack appreciated good hands, for many reasons, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about Ianto’s hands.

“Shit,” Jack sighed, standing abruptly and heading down to the one place he knew Ianto would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto?” Jack called out, entering the archives and immediately resisting the urge to sneeze as disturbed dust particles tickled his nose.

“Here,” Jack heard the soft call some from somewhere to his right.

“Keep talking,” Jack called out as he followed the sound of Ianto’s voice, his Welsh accent like music to Jack’s ears. Leaving the main walkway Jack weaved around towering stacks of boxes and rows of metal bookcases piled high with various artifacts Torchwood had collected or appropriated over the years. He found Ianto near the end of one row, a label maker in one hand and clipboard in the other. Jack resisted the sudden urge to throw him into the bookcase and kiss him.

“Anything the matter?” Ianto asked his brow slightly furrowed in concern.

“No,” Jack grinned as he looked at what Ianto was working on. “Relabeling. Kind of tedious.”

Ianto just shrugged and Jack laughed

“It’s quitting time, you should get home,” Jack said after a few moments of silence. He seemed to be saying this to Ianto a lot lately and Jack wondered briefly if there was some reason Ianto didn’t want to go home.

“It’s fine, sir,” Ianto smiled, though Jack sensed a falseness in it as it faltered under his scrutiny.

“I’d like to finish,” Ianto added, nodding to the shelf in front of him which held hundreds of tiny rocks of varying colors and textures. Each had a curled and faded label affixed to it, and Jack could see that Ianto had already started on the bunch, the ones he’d completed displayed bright, easily readable labels compared to the rest. Jack reached out a finger to a dark blue rock with pink and yellow crystals poking out of its surface; its label had not been replaced yet.

“Fine,” Jack sighed in concession. He certainly couldn’t force the man to go home, but he hoped Ianto was taking some vitamin D supplements. His complexion was naturally pale, but the lack of sunlight made him appear almost ghostly at times.

“Was there something else, sir?” Ianto raised his head to ask. Jack had been watching Ianto’s hands as they worked the label maker.

“Yeah,” Jack said quickly before he lost his nerve. He took the label maker and the clipboard from Ianto and placed them on the shelf, knocking over several rocks. They made the sound of tinkling crystal as they fell into each other.

Jack’s heart raced as he stared at Ianto, a small part of him afraid the reality couldn’t possibly live up to expectation. Ianto’s expression betrayed nervous confusion, causing Jack to smile.

“Relax, I just want to see something,” Jack said quietly as he stepped even closer, the two men only half a meter apart when he reached out and grasped Ianto’s hand, threading their fingers. Jack heard Ianto breath in sharply, even as his hand gripped tightly back at Jack’s.  

Jack closed his eyes as a wave of emotions washed over him; intimate feelings he tried to keep locked away; memories of past lovers playing before his eyes; an aching yearning for someone new in his life be it Ianto, or Gwen, or someone he hadn’t met yet.

A few moments passed before Jack opened his eyes and when he did he found Ianto staring at him, his clear blue eyes questioning and curious, his face slightly flushed.

Jack laughed and placed his free hand on top of Ianto’s hand, trapping it momentarily as he stroked his thumb across the back of it. Ianto’s skin was soft and smooth; youthful.  Jack fought every urge in his body as he released Ianto’s hand. As soon as the contact was broken Jack wanted it back.

“As I hoped,” Jack said with a wink and a grin. Then he turned and left.

Back in his office, he closed and locked the doors.  He’d allowed himself a taste and now he wanted more. He wasn’t very good at self-control. 


	3. Broken Down Machinery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after "Ghost Machine".

He went to work every day; the smile on his face false and the words he spoke lies. He felt deceitful. 

He was deceitful.

As far as anyone knew though, he was fine.

“I’m fine,” he’d reply to Owen; to Tosh; to Gwen; to Jack.

_Just fine._

He wasn’t fine though. He was in agony and it was tearing him apart inside. It wasn’t just the constant vigilance he was forced to employ so no one discovered her, but the sad fact everything in his life was wrapped up in the Torchwood Hub. Without it he had nothing.

But he was fine.

His life had had meaning before Canary Wharf.  He was happy and making plans for a future. Now he felt as if he were going through the motions. He was no longer happy, and he couldn’t conceive of a future beyond the day he was stuck in. His days would blur together as he spent countless hours alone in the archives with nothing but his misery for company.

He was lonely; and alone. He felt he didn’t even know himself anymore. He’d been lying and pretending for so long he was becoming unrecognizable to himself.

Jack tried to include him and sometimes he thought Jack could see the hurt he was trying so hard to hide.  But Jack never said anything.

A part of him wanted to be found out. Then the lying would be over. In a way it would be a relief.

But Lisa.

The pain of thinking about her truly gone was too much so he went through the motions. He made sure Jack had his coffee and his coat.  Jack would be sure to compliment his tie, or give him a mischievous grin, or bump his hand against his and offer an insincere apology before winking and walking away.  He treasured these moments of physical human contact. If he were honest, he treasured Jack.

Immediately upon their first meeting he had sensed something larger than life about him. Jack was commanding in his presence, and he was willing to do anything Jack asked. This didn’t help the fact that every time Jack spoke to him or touched him he felt more guilt over his deception. Not only because of what it meant to those he was deceiving, but because of how he felt about Jack.  He couldn’t reconcile what it was exactly; he just knew the feelings were strong.

He admired Jack greatly. He was a true hero, someone he looked up to.  The eventual disappointment Jack would feel regarding his betrayal would be crushing. He didn’t want to disappoint Jack, but his intention from the start had been to save Lisa and he had to keep trying. He never considered he’d actually come to care for the people he was lying too. He didn’t think he’d be waging a war within himself over his loyalties to Lisa versus his loyalties to Torchwood. All he knew was that he would gladly die for Lisa. He wondered if he would ever feel that way about Torchwood.

Still…

“I’m fine,” he’d answer again and again.

He wondered if anyone even heard him when he said it. They would reach for their coffee and ask how he was, yet their eyes wouldn’t leave the DVD playing on the screen, or the report on the computer monitor, or the magazine article or newspaper on the desk. He didn’t mind. It was easier to fake happy when no one was looking too closely.

Back to the archives he’d go and he’d wait. Eventually they’d be called away and he could sneak to see Lisa. To tell her how he really was feeling. How he was not fine. How he missed her.

She acted so hopeful. Each time he woke her and told her he had made no progress separating her from the conversion unit, she never blamed him. She never got angry. He felt completely useless but Lisa’s faith in him fueled him to work harder. So much time had been wasted already and he ached for her arms to hold him like they used to. He yearned to hear her throaty laugh when he’d say something she thought funny.

When the team wasn’t called away he would order food for lunch.  He would fake laughter, and smile along with everyone. He was so good at faking, it was becoming harder for him to remember what it really felt like to be happy; to laugh because he wanted too not because he was expected to.

But if you were to ask anyone on the team they’d tell you he was fine. They didn’t know any different. They didn’t try to know any different.

The days they spent together in the Hub, as a team, Jack would watch him. He would see him out of the corner of his eye as he watched his movements. Those were the days he thought maybe Jack could see beyond the protective wall. But all Jack ever said was he looked tired, or he spent too much time at the Hub, or to eat more vegetables.  As if the circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin were from a lack of vitamins.

Things began to change when he found Doctor Tanizaki. For the first time in a long time he felt real hope for Lisa’s future, and his.  The weeks spent emailing and talking on the phone gave him something to strive for.

Finally, plans were made. Doctor Tanizaki was coming to Cardiff. 


	4. The Reasons for Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Cyberwoman".

Jack stared out the windscreen as a light rain started to fall. It was loud inside the otherwise silent SUV. Checking the time, he sighed heavily. Tosh had been inside for almost a half hour. Jack laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, clenching his fists as he fought the urge to run inside and demand answers from Ianto.

It had been two days since the events surrounding Lisa, or rather the half-converted shell of Lisa, had occurred. Two days since she had wreaked havoc on the Hub. Just two days. And while Jack had accepted Ianto’s willingness to clear up the mess she’d left behind, he was still very angry.

When the Hub resembled its pre-Lisa state, Jack sent Ianto home for a long weekend to think about if he really wanted to stay at Torchwood. It had taken all of his self control not to rail against the young man in that moment. He hadn’t been blind to the shame and defeat in Ianto’s expression, yet Jack had felt no empathy for him. Still Jack was willing to give Ianto a second chance, something he’d done seldom few times in his storied past. 

Jack had been certain he would return to work the following week. Ianto knew the consequences if he were to choose to leave Torchwood; he would be retconned. He would remember nothing of the last few years. No traces of Torchwood would remain, which meant no traces of Lisa would remain either. Jack, though his list of former lovers was long, would never want to be deprived the memory of any of them and he was certain Ianto would not want to forget Lisa, no matter how painful the memories. He therefore assumed Ianto would be back.

The following Monday Ianto didn’t show up. A slight paralyzing fear overtook Jack but he quickly pushed the emotion away, focusing on the deception and anger he still felt. He spent the day stomping and raging around the Hub, not really noticing the others. Late in the afternoon Tosh paid Jack a visit. She wanted him to drive her to Ianto’s.  He understood her concern for Ianto and admired her empathy even as he struggled with his own wounded ego. If he were honest with himself he was actually a bit jealous at her ability to forgive. Tosh still saw the best in people even after all she’d been through.  Jack was much less forgiving. He had seen too much and was jaded to humanity and its selfish need to lie and deceive in order to serve its own purposes. He didn’t think Ianto’s motives were purely selfish, and he wanted to move past the events but he was hurt.

Jack was hurt by the deception; the lies that Ianto had told both outright to Jack’s face, and the lies he had told by omission. He recalled the conversations he’d had with Ianto about working late, or the mornings when Jack would emerge from his bunk to find Ianto already at the Hub. Turns out all those times he’d been taking care of Lisa, all under Jack’s very nose. It made Jack feel like a fool, and Jack didn’t like to feel that way, especially when the feelings were brought on by someone he trusted and respected.

He had trusted Ianto more than he had trusted anyone in some time. He had felt a kind of closeness with him, almost from the beginning. He seemed older than his years; almost wise. Jack now knew he could attribute that to what had happened at Canary Wharf and the things he saw there.

Jack agreed to drive Tosh, and as they’d approached the non-descript building Jack had felt fresh stirrings of anger grow in his stomach.  She’d wanted Jack to accompany her inside but he wasn’t ready to face Ianto yet; he was still too angry. He’d leave the condolence visit to Tosh.

So Jack waited.

Sometime later, Jack was startled from a light sleep by the SUV passenger door opening quickly. He watched, slightly bemused, as a dripping wet Tosh jumped quickly into the SUV. The light rain had turned heavy and Jack was surprised he hadn’t noticed. The larger drops were exponentially louder on the roof of the vehicle.

“Didn’t think it was supposed to rain this much today,” he said as he started the SUV, turning up the heat and turning the vents in Tosh’s direction.

Tosh just shrugged and leaned forward, rubbing her hands furiously together and gently shaking her head as warm air blasted out of the vents. Jack felt water droplets from her wet hair land on his cheek as he stared ahead.

The SUV warmed up quickly in the early fall weather and Jack was soon sweating beneath his wool greatcoat. Once the windscreen had cleared of fog Jack shifted the SUV into drive and pulled away from Ianto’s building, steering them back towards the Hub.

“So,” Jack said after several minutes of silence, his curiosity getting the better of him, “how is he? And more importantly, is he coming back to work?”

His eyes moved quickly to glance at Tosh. She had her head resting against the back of the seat and was staring straight ahead, her expression sad.

“He’s not good, Jack,” she said finally, glancing over at him.

“He’s heartbroken and consumed with guilt over what happened. And he’s lonely,” she added. Jack watched her eyes blink rapidly. Undoubtedly she was fighting back tears. Tosh felt everything if she allowed herself. Her empathy was one of the things Jack loved about her. He turned back to the road, his chest tightening. Jack sighed inwardly and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t ready to feel sorry for Ianto; he wanted to stay angry.

 “He’s completely distraught because he feels like he disappointed you,” Tosh added, a slight edge to her tone.

“Did he say that?” Jack asked in a measured voice, his eyes on the road as they started to encounter afternoon Cardiff traffic.

“Not in so many words,” Tosh replied with a sigh. “But it’s obvious that Ianto has a bit of a hero-worship complex when it comes to you, Jack.”

“Is it?” Jack asked, a small smile playing on his lips in spite of his efforts to remain indifferent.

When Tosh didn’t respond, Jack glanced at her and his smile faltered. Her expression was angry, her eyes hard and narrow.

“This is serious, Jack. Ianto needs reassurance from all of us, but especially from you. It would go a long way if you would go talk to him. Let him know that he didn’t let you down. That might be an incentive for him to come back to work.”

Jack remained silent as he pondered her words.  He wanted to reassure Ianto but he wasn’t sure he could. Not yet anyway. The truth was Ianto _had_ let him down, and Jack was in no position to make any grand gestures or offer forgiveness. He needed time, too.

“Right,” he said with finality, glancing at Tosh with a look he hoped conveyed that the conversation was over.  The sound of the wipers on the windscreen filled the vehicle as it made its way back to the Hub through the heavy rain, both its occupants lost in their own thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto didn’t show up for work on Tuesday or Wednesday, and the Hub was quiet as everyone kept to their own work. Even Owen was subdued. Jack busied himself with hunting Weevils, hoping the activity would leave little time to consider Ianto or what Tosh had said to him. It worked some of the time, but Jack still found he was thinking about Ianto more than he wanted.

Thursday morning that same week Jack awoke feeling anxious. For the first time since the discovery of the betrayal his first thoughts about Ianto weren’t laced with anger. Jack actively missed him. He missed his proper manners, his neat appearance, his voice, and most noticeably his coffee. No one else had the skill for coffee like Ianto; no one else could get it “just right” like Ianto. Jack knew he wasn’t the only one wondering what they would do about beverage services if Ianto decided not to return.

The morning passed slowly with Jack sitting behind his desk staring blankly at forms and invoices that Ianto usually helped him complete or that he completed on Jack’s behalf, later shoving them in front of Jack for his signature. Jack waged a war within himself as he resisted the urge to forgive Ianto for his mistakes while simultaneously trying to fuel his waning anger; he wanted to maintain the rage. Remaining angry was much easier than offering forgiveness and truthfully, Jack didn’t want to confront Ianto. What he wanted more than anything was to simply bring the young man back to the Hub and move on as if nothing had happened. But Jack knew that wasn’t fair, and that Ianto deserved more than for Jack to just ignore everything that had happened.

By lunchtime Jack was going mad with the thoughts swirling in his head. Without a word he threw on his great coat and strode out of the Hub. He shortly found himself at a pub around the corner from Ianto’s flat. He hadn’t intended to go there, but as he pulled the SUV out of the parking garage he found himself automatically driving towards Ianto’s. Still, his pride kept him from making the last part of the trip up the steps to his door. So Jack found himself at a Pub, a double of scotch in front of him, his mind a cacophony of arguments for why he should go talk to Ianto, and why he shouldn’t.

Watching his reflection in the mirror behind the bar Jack rolled his head, trying to ease the stress of the last week. Closing his eyes he downed the scotch, relishing the burn as it trailed down his throat to his stomach. It was the first drop of alcohol he’d consumed in years and Jack felt the effects of the drink almost instantly. His body warmed from his core, the heat spreading quickly up his neck and down his arms and legs.

“Another?” The young barkeep appeared in front of Jack, the bottle of scotch poised above the empty tumbler, ready to pour.

“No,” Jack turned the glass upside down and pushed it away.

“Ice water,” he added ignoring the arched eyebrow of the barkeep.

Jack continued to stare at his reflection, seeing the glass of ice water appear out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly and without warning, a memory jumped to the front of Jack’s mind. A memory of something many decades gone, yet it was so vivid it could have happened only days ago…

She had been an employee of Torchwood when Jack had fallen in love with her. She had been, for a short time, the most important thing in his life. Jack would have done anything for her; anything at all. Suddenly Jack understood completely.

“Damn,” Jack whispered as he took a long drink of water, then tossing some money on the bar he headed out into the damp afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For almost five minutes Jack stood outside Ianto’s door, alternately knocking and calling out his name to no response.  Jack sighed and raised his hand to knock again when he finally heard the movement of the lock and the door slowly slid open.

“It’s about damn time,” Jack blurted with exasperation as he pushed his way through the door and into Ianto’s flat.

“What do you want, sir,” Ianto closed the door behind Jack and slipped the lock once more.  He leaned heavily against it and stared at Jack with red-rimmed eyes, his face wearing several days of stubble. Jack noticed Ianto’s facial hair had a reddish tint and he fought the urge to reach out and rub his hand along Ianto’s cheek.

“Are you drunk?” Jack stared back.

Ianto shrugged and shuffled past Jack into the flat. The window shades were drawn and the place was dark and moody.

“How about some coffee? Won’t be as good as yours but I can make a decent cup,” Jack announced loudly as he strode into the kitchen.

“Got none,” Ianto said.  Jack was caught off guard with the suddenly improper speech pattern. He stopped and turned at the kitchen doorway, in time to see Ianto fall heavily onto the sofa.

“Water then,” Jack said under his breath as he moved the rest of the way into the kitchen to fill a glass, taking note of the half-eaten Chinese take-out and the ominous smell coming from the trash bin.

“Drink,” Jack returned with water, rounding the sofa and sitting on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Ianto. He shoved the water at Ianto, holding his gaze as Ianto stared back at him. They stayed like that for nearly a minute before Ianto finally reached out and took the glass.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, sipping the water.

“I don’t know,” Jack replied awkwardly. This wasn’t going as he had expected.

“I guess…I wondered if you were coming back to work,” he added lamely, watching Ianto cradle the glass of water in his hands.

Ianto’s let out a barking laugh, causing Jack to jump.

“You don’t need me,” he snorted before he took another sip of water. “I’m just the tea-boy. Ask anyone.”

Ianto’s self-deprecating tone hurt Jack in a way that surprised him.  He had never considered Ianto to have a low self-esteem, but burying a lover can bring out the worst in people. Jack knew better than most. He’d buried many lovers; too many in fact. He tried not to think about all the future lovers he’d also see buried, the curse of his eternal life. No, what he needed to do now was focus on helping Ianto.

Jack didn’t respond right away. He simply watched the man in front of him. The man who undoubtedly felt as if he’d lost everything worth living for. He wanted to reassure Ianto that he was so much more than the tea-boy; that he had so much more to live for. But Jack didn’t know how.

“Ianto-,” Jack began, but Ianto suddenly leaned forward bringing his face inches from Jack’s.

“What are you doing here, Jack?” Ianto asked again softly, almost pleadingly. His eyes bore into Jack’s, searching.

“I-,” Jack started but again, Ianto cut him off.

“Why did you even hire me?” A single tear fell down Ianto’s cheek and Jack felt an immediate compulsion to wrap his arms around Ianto and hold him tight.

“Ianto,” Jack’s voice was a whisper as the two men continued to stare at each other. Jack could feel Ianto’s breath on his lips. He could see the fading bruises on Ianto’s forehead, now with a greenish tint to them. His head felt thick with cotton, the proximity of Ianto distracting him.

“Why, Jack?” Ianto asked again, his voice barely a whisper.

They were like that for what felt to Jack like an eternity but what was probably only a few seconds, before Ianto moved away and fell back against the sofa, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. Jack saw he still held the glass of water in his hands.

“I liked you,” Jack finally answered. Now that there was a bit more distance between them, Jack felt his wits returning.

“You were persistent. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I might regret asking,” Jack added, breaking the silence and changing the direction of the conversation, “how’d you know where to find me that first night?”

Ianto shrugged and shook his head.

“You probably will regret asking,” he raised his head and stared at Jack.

“I was following you. Had been for awhile.”

Jack raised his eyebrows questioningly as he thought back, trying to figure out how he had never noticed. Jack was usually good at noticing things like that.

“I wasn’t planning to approach you that night, but when that Weevil started attacking you,” Ianto paused and shrugged again. “I reacted on instinct.”

Jack nodded with his memory of the night. Ianto’s assistance hadn’t been necessary, but there had been a brief moment in which Jack had almost lost control of the situation. He would have been alright, being unable to die, but Ianto didn’t know that about him so of course he’d jump to help.

“I felt terrible about what I was doing,” Ianto said, taking a drink of water. Jack was glad to see he appeared to be calming down; the self-pitying tone leaving his voice and his manners and propriety returning.

“Using you for the Torchwood technology,” another tear slipped from Ianto’s eyes, “but I had to try.”

“People will do a lot for love,” Jack said, surprising himself at his attempt to excuse Ianto’s actions.

“Before I came over here, I was reminded of something, someone. From a long time ago,” Jack said, suddenly feeling awkward and vulnerable. He never talked about his past with his team, and here he was about to discuss one of the most intimate and heart-breaking moments in his life.

“Her name was Mary,” Jack smiled as he pictured her; she had dark, shining hair and full, red lips. Her eyes were a deep brown, so dark they appeared almost black.

Jack stood quickly and started pacing. He could feel Ianto’s eyes on him.

“I met her shortly after I started working for Torchwood.  She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen,” Jack shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, his fingers finding the stopwatch he carried.

“We had a whirlwind romance. She gave me her fa-,” Jack paused almost imperceptively, “grandfather’s watch.”

Jack pulled out the stopwatch and turned it over in his hands. It had belonged to her father, but since Jack met Mary in 1920 he couldn’t very well say that. He held the watch out to Ianto and the younger man took it. Jack watched him run his thumb over the glass cover.

“It’s nice,” Ianto said, giving the watch back.

“It was the last thing Mary gave me because the next day she was killed,” Jack smiled down at the watch as the image of Mary naked in bed, laughing as Jack teased her with strawberries, flashed in his mind. It was the same memory that had come to him at the pub. It had been their last night together.

“Killed?” Ianto asked.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed as he pocketed the watch once more. “A casualty of Torchwood.”

Jack met Ianto’s stare and smiled wide.

“It happens to the best of us,” Jack shrugged.

“What’d you do?” Ianto asked, his expression showing real concern and Jack felt a surge of affection for him. That he would feel bad for Jack for something that happened almost a century earlier…

“I got drunk,” Jack answered, “for days. I didn’t go to work and I didn’t eat and I didn’t sleep. I just drank. But it didn’t help. After a week my coworkers dragged me back and locked me in a cell to dry out. I was furious at them all. For being the reason I met Mary, and for trapping me. It took me a long time to heal from her loss.”

Ianto had leaned back into the sofa and stared at his hands.

“I wanted to marry her,” Jack added, his voice barely a whisper. He had never spoken this out loud before, and it was true. He had planned to marry her. Tell her the truth and hope she would accept him.

“I’m sorry for your loss Jack,” Ianto said as he stood from the sofa. “But the situations are hardly the same. Mary didn’t try to kill you and all your friends. How can I face everyone after what happened with Lisa?”

“We’ll get over it. Move on,” Jack said, holding out his hand.

“Everyone wants you back,” Jack added as he watched Ianto stare at his outstretched hand in confusion, “we want you back, and we want to help you heal.”

Ianto looked from Jack’s hand to his face, his eyebrows arched questioningly. Jack smiled and nodded encouragingly. Slowly, Ianto reached out and shook Jack’s hand.

“Great! So I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Jack moved to leave and pausing at the door he looked back at Ianto. The younger man nodded and Jack threw him a wink and a smile, and headed back to the Hub.


	5. Big Country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Small Worlds".

Ianto stared through the glass that separated Jack’s office from the rest of the Hub. The others had long since left and Ianto was alone in the Hub, putting off going home to his dark and empty flat and by positioning himself just right at Tosh’s workstation, he had a clear view of the other man sitting at his desk, his head hanging low as he paged through what looked like a photo album.

Ianto observed him silently. He didn’t know precisely what was contained within the pages of the book that was holding Jack’s attention, but Ianto guessed it was something important to him. Probably pictures of family or friends.

There was no doubt Jack had some family somewhere, even if he never mentioned them.  It wouldn’t surprise Ianto it was just that no one at Torchwood ever talked about their families. Ianto certainly never talked about his sister or his parents and aside from knowing that Gwen lived with her boyfriend Rhys, everyone else’s home life was a mystery.  Ianto felt a little guilty that he’d never even considered asking anyone about their life outside the Hub. Not that he would get a straight answer; Owen would likely make a rude comment, Tosh would dodge the question, and Gwen would just talk about Rhys. As for Jack…Ianto wasn’t sure what Jack would do. All he knew was that watching him now, seeing the way he was staring at the photo album, that the pages must contain photos of family, or photos of people who meant a lot to him. He guessed Jack had a need to connect to life; to reaffirm humanity and its existence. Ianto briefly wondered if there was a photo of Mary in that album.

Some days at Torchwood were harder than others, and it had been a rough day for the whole team. Jack had made a difficult decision; he had sacrificed the life of a little girl to ultimately save all of humanity. Ianto didn’t envy Jack the decision he had made. It hadn’t been but a few weeks earlier that Ianto had been responsible for the near-deaths of the entire Torchwood team at the hands of his cyber-girlfriend. When Ianto compared his recent actions with Jack’s he was ashamed.  He had been selfish whereas Jack had been selfless.  

Ianto continued to be grateful that the rest of the team had been willing to welcome him back and slowly they were coming to trust him again.  Ianto knew the others would forgive Jack too, no matter how angry they were with him now. Jack’s crimes, whether perceived or real, were no worse than Ianto’s had been.

Through the glass Ianto watched Jack turn another page, then lean his head forward and cradle his face with his hands. With a sigh Ianto moved slowly and quietly from Tosh’s station towards the open doors of Jack’s office.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” Ianto stood just inside the doorframe and at the sound of his voice Ianto saw Jack start, his head rising quickly as his hands simultaneously slammed shut the album. Ianto caught a glimpse of aged black and white photos tacked to brown paper pages. He couldn’t make out the images.

“I thought everyone had left,” Jack replied with a sharp, barking laugh.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, sir” Ianto nodded in apology as he shifted on his heels. Jack was watching him closely and Ianto immediately felt self-conscious. There were times when Jack stared at him that Ianto felt completed exposed; like the other man could see right through him. That he could see Ianto struggling to hold his shattered life together; that he could see how much Ianto relied on Jack for the simple strength of living day to day. That Jack could see how much he wanted to heal and be normal again and how much of that need came from the older man.

“No. I’m fine,” Jack said finally, flashing a too-toothy smile and leaning back in his chair. Ianto offered his own careful, tight-lipped smile in response. He easily recognized the falseness in Jack’s expression and knew that Jack saying he was fine didn’t mean he was okay. Ianto had used that line for months and he wasn’t going to let Jack off that easy. They had been through a lot together and after the care Jack had shown following Lisa, Ianto felt responsible to return the favor; he felt compelled to. He wanted too.

“Go home, Ianto,” Jack added, his smile slowly fading as his expression changed to something Ianto wouldn’t exactly call sad, but more defeated and lonely. No doubt Jack was endlessly replaying the events of the past few days, trying to determine if he could have made any other choice; if he could have changed the outcome; if he could have saved the little girl, Jasmine. It was a game Ianto knew very well. He had spent months playing the game, wondering what if…

Looking at Jack, Ianto tried to find anything in his face that would indicate he wanted reassurance or forgiveness but Jack’s expression remained impassive.

Nodding, Ianto started to leave but paused at the door. He decided to reach out anyway; to try and offer Jack some form of comfort whether he wanted it or not. The older man was good at hiding his emotions, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there lurking beneath the surface. Turning, Ianto moved further into the office and held Jack’s curious gaze as he felt his hands itching to dive into his trouser pockets. 

“I just want to say I think you did the right thing,” Ianto said softly, his eyes glancing quickly from Jack’s face to the album on the desk. The cover was worn brown leather, and the word PHOTOGRAPHS was embossed in gold across the front. Flakes were missing from some of the letters indicating it aged.

Jack’s curious expression transformed to an appreciative if somewhat bitter smile at Ianto’s words.

“Why do you say that? I let that little girl go, let her get taken by those damn fairies.  That woman lost her husband and her daughter in a matter of minutes and we just walked away unharmed, unaffected,” Jack leveled his eyes at Ianto seeming to search his face. Ianto willed himself not to look away.

“Not unaffected,” Ianto said after a pause as he shook his head and thought about how he had felt leaving that woman sobbing in her home for her dead husband and her daughter. She had been given retcon of course, but at that moment she still remembered, and the sounds of her cries were haunting. No, Ianto had not been unaffected and knew the rest of the team had felt similar pain and were taking it out on Jack. Ianto had come to realize pretty quickly that Jack had really had no choice; that he had done the only thing he could. He knew the others would come around.

“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good,” he added, staring at Jack as the thoughts of the sobbing mother transformed into images of a half-converted Lisa lying dead on the concrete floor of the basement; images of blood, so much blood; images of the pizza delivery girl with Lisa’s brain transplanted, the wound across her forehead oozing even as she tried to convince Ianto of who she was; images of leveling his gun at her ( _her name, what was her name?_ Ianto thought briefly), not wanting to believe it was Lisa, but so desperate to have her back. Then he almost did it, he almost pulled the trigger. But in the end he couldn’t. He hadn’t been strong enough to do the right thing and that was why Jack had his trust, respect, and admiration.  Jack could make the difficult choices.  _Like forgiving me after what I did_ , Ianto thought, still ashamed and embarrassed. He worked to keep his expression neutral as the brutal images cycled through his head.

Ianto wasn’t sure who he was anymore. After weeks of numbing pain, he was starting to rebuild his life. He had spent so much time defining himself by his mission to save Lisa that now that she was gone he didn’t know what his purpose was. All he knew was that Torchwood was where he wanted to be, and that Jack, and Tosh, and even Owen and Gwen, were fast becoming his family, his reason and purpose. He was grateful to them for freeing him from the burden of the lies he’d been carrying even though the guilt associated with the thought threatened to crush him. He fought the weight of it pressing down on him every moment of every day.  

 _Does he see it now?_ Ianto wondered.

“I appreciate that,” Jack finally said, his voice soft and thoughtful. He was staring at Ianto, the intensity of the gaze causing Ianto’s heart to race and he felt a nervous warmth rise up his neck from beneath his suit collar. It wasn’t the first time he’d reacted to Jack this way and Ianto was unsure how to interpret the signals his body was giving him.

With Jack he felt so young and small, so insignificant. There was something about him, something magnetic and commanding that Ianto found himself drawn too. When Jack looked at him so intensely, Ianto could feel faint glimmers of hope; that maybe he wasn’t completely unworthy of friendship and love. Even after all he’d done.  Jack had helped him start the healing process, and Ianto had a feeling Jack would continue to be a driving force in his life. He was drawn to Jack and Ianto felt his strongest both emotionally and physically when he was nearer the other man.

“Well, if you don’t need anything,” Ianto said finally, breaking the awkward silence and thankful his voice sounded strong and unwavering, even though his insides were a muddled mess of confused emotion.

Jack nodded and smiled down at the cover of the album resting under his hands. As Ianto turned and started out of the office Jack called out after him.

“Ianto, thank you.”

Ianto glanced over his shoulder and saw his boss grinning at him, an impish glint in his eye and not a trace of falseness in his expression.

“Of course, sir.  Goodnight,” Ianto, ever the professional, replied as he exited the office.

Out of the Hub and safely in his car out of sight of CCTV, Ianto allowed himself to react to that grin. He drove home with a tiny smile and a new lightness of being that not even his shattered, but slowly mending heart, could diminish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things returned to normal rather quickly and by week’s end the rest of the team had reverted back to normal behavior with Jack.  Ianto had known they wouldn’t stay angry for long.

Jack’s behavior toward Ianto began to change as well and the days at Torchwood were a cluster of mixed signals and emotions Ianto didn’t know how to respond to. Things had suddenly changed between Jack and Ianto. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he suspected that the night he had offered Jack comfort had been the turning point.

Things changed slowly at first. Jack started reaching for his coffee instead of letting Ianto set it before him.  He would let his hand linger when taking the mug and Ianto noticed on more than one occasion that Jack’s thumb briefly stroked the back of his hand. 

Soon the change in Jack became more pronounced. He would come up behind Ianto and rest his hand on his back, sometimes not removing it for several minutes. Quickly it progressed to the point where Jack would lightly rub small circles that caused Ianto’s skin to break out in gooseflesh.

The innuendo-laden comments from Jack returned as well.  After he’d returned to work following what happened with Lisa, Jack had been subdued and strictly professional with Ianto.  Now, several times a day he would comment on Ianto’s coffee, his suit, his hair, really anything and everything. Jack had been flirtatious with Ianto before Lisa, but now it had progressed to a whole new level. It was almost aggressive, and Ianto found he liked it.

He knew the others also noticed the change in Jack’s behavior towards him and he tried to ignore their stares while at the same time he tried not to think about why he anxiously awaited the next comment to come out of Jack’s mouth.

Honestly, Ianto found great comfort in the attention he got from Jack so he did nothing to discourage it, knowing for Jack this translated to encouragement. It felt almost as if things were back to normal if not for the constant dull pain that lingered in Ianto’s heart from losing Lisa. He could pretend it wasn’t there during the day, when Jack was touching his back or giving him looks and winks. When he went home at night it was a different story; the pain would overtake him. It made for long, sleepless nights in which nightmares of Lisa plagued him. Ianto began to spend longer days at the Hub, the only place where he felt anything other than the emptiness of losing Lisa. Even though Lisa had died at the Hub, it was the only refuge Ianto had from the memories that lingered at his flat; photos that he couldn’t bear to put away and clothes he’d brought with him from London that still hung in the closet.  They had long ago lost any trace of Lisa’s scent.

After two long weeks of dull days with little to no rift activity and not even a Weevil to hunt, Jack gathered the team in the conference room for a briefing. Seventeen people had gone missing within Brecon Beacons, and they were going to investigate. Jack instructed them all to pack an overnight bag because Torchwood was taking a trip out of town.

Ianto remained seated at the conference table, confused as he watched Gwen, Owen and Tosh gather their notes and leave.

“Ianto,” Jack sat at the head of the table, watching him expectantly, “better get your things together. You have an hour.”

Ianto stared at Jack blankly.

“You don’t mean you want me to come with,” Ianto finally said, giving a tiny, incredulous laugh.

“Yeah, you’re coming with,” Jack replied, no trace of humor in his voice.

Ianto’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to figure out what reason Jack had for wanting him to tag along. He wasn’t a field technician. His place was in the Hub; in a controlled environment where he could make coffee and monitor the rift. He could count on two hands the number of times he’d been in the field, and most of those trips were simple clean-up operations.

“Surely I should stay here and monitor the rift,” Ianto finally rebutted, watching Jack’s face cloud a bit at his response.

“No, I think the rift can handle itself for one night; activity’s been nearly untraceable the past few weeks anyway. And I want you to come with us,” Jack said as he stood, gathering up his papers.

“Sir, I really think I’d be better off staying here,” Ianto felt desperation fueling his temper. He was compliant and agreeable to doing all tasks within the Hub that Jack asked of him, but the thought of having to go to the field and spend a day and night with no one but the team frightened him for reasons he couldn’t yet define. He simply did not want to go.

“Ianto, you’ve been to the field; you’ve hunted Weevils,” Jack stared and Ianto could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I thought you were more than just the tea-boy,” Jack added.

Ianto felt his frustration building as he tried to pinpoint why it was he was afraid. Since Lisa he’d been confined to the Hub, and it was a like a security blanket for him. What if he did something wrong that put the team in danger?

“You’re going,” Jack said, his tone indicating there’d be no more debating the point; “now get yourself home and into some casual clothes then get back here.”

“I don’t want you messing up any of your pretty suits,” Jack smirked.

Ianto stood slowly, suddenly feeling like a child being admonished by a parent. It was humiliating and for the first time, Ianto resented Jack. He looked at the other man and with a stiff nod, spun on his heels and left the room.

“Ianto,” he heard Jack call out, his voice softer, but Ianto didn’t stop. If he was being forced to go on this adventure, well, Jack could just suffer a bit for it.


	6. Gift Horse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Countrycide".

 

The Torchwood team was unusually quiet on the trip back to Cardiff. After all they’d seen and experienced, Jack wasn’t surprised no one wanted to talk. It wasn’t everyday that you encountered cannibals, let alone come close to becoming their next victims.

Jack glanced into the rear-view mirror at Ianto, who sat in the backseat sandwiched between Tosh and Owen. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, unmoving, and his expression was blank. Cuts, bruises and dried blood marred his normally unblemished skin. His eyes were sunken with dark circles beneath revealing his exhaustion. Jack sighed inwardly as his eyes moved over the other three of his team. They didn’t look much better. Tosh and Owen were both leaning away from Ianto, heads resting on the glass of the rear windows. Gwen also had her head against the window, staring out at the countryside.

Silence permeated the vehicle; the only sound was the road under the wheels.

Jack moved his gaze back to the rear-view mirror and was surprised to find the intense blue eyes of Ianto staring back at him. Jack held his look for a moment before turning back to the road, determined to get them all back to Cardiff as quickly as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Hub, Jack put off debriefing the team and sent them home to rest. Tosh, Owen and Gwen immediately scattered to their respective vehicles while Ianto remained leaning against the SUV with one arm wrapped protectively around his mid-section. The paramedics, once on scene, had concurred with Owen’s initial diagnosis; Ianto had several broken and bruised ribs, but no other internal injuries were immediately evident.

“Ianto,” Jack reached out a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “Go home and get some rest.”

Ianto just stared at Jack with blank eyes.

“Come on,” Jack guided Ianto by the elbow from the SUV to his car, helping him into the car. Ianto winced with pain from the effort.

“What do I do?” Ianto asked, sounding tired and defeated. His hands rested on the steering wheel and his eyes stared straight ahead.

Kneeling down next to the still open driver’s side door, Jack laid a hand on Ianto’s knee.

“Go home,” Jack said gently as a tear fell from Ianto’s eye. Jack, moving before he had time to think, reached out and gently thumbed it away, momentarily cupping Ianto’s cheek before standing and shutting the car door.

It was still several minutes before Ianto drove away, and Jack felt a heavy sadness as he watched the car leave the parking garage. He had been witness to many horrors in his long life. So many that nothing really surprised him anymore; but seeing the events of the last 24-hours through the eyes of his team, all still innocent regardless of the things they’d also seen, hurt him. Alien horrors they knew; but they hadn’t been prepared for the horrors of humanity and had been confronted by it head on, at its worst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh and Owen arrived promptly at 8am the next morning, quieter than usual and moving with a bit of care, no doubt to account for the bruises. Gwen followed soon thereafter, unusually subdued and withdrawn. She kept her distance from the others and didn’t try to corner Jack like she usually did first thing each morning. By 10am Ianto, who was usually the first in the Hub (aside from Jack), still hadn’t shown up and Jack felt nervous unease settle heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He spent the morning debriefing Owen, Tosh and Gwen as he kept one eye on the clock and one on the door. By noon there was still no Ianto and Jack was becoming genuinely worried, and angry with himself. Ianto had not missed a day of work nor had he been late since the day he’d started, not counting the events surrounding Lisa. The others hadn’t seemed to notice that the coffee wasn’t made or that Ianto wasn’t around. Or if they did notice, they weren’t showing it. They had retreated into their own work, a coping mechanism Jack guessed.  For Jack, Ianto’s absence was all he could see. He couldn’t believe he’d just let Ianto go home alone in the state he was in. He couldn’t believe he’d let any of them go home alone after what they’d just been through.  

 _What the hell kind of person does that_? Jack thought angrily as he threw on his coat and left the Hub in a rush.

The trip wasn’t long to Ianto’s flat, but to Jack it felt infinite. He couldn’t stop imagining finding Ianto’s dead body in a pool of blood.  Jack was convinced that a man dealing with everything Ianto had been through over the last few months was nothing if not suicidal. If anything were to push him over the edge it would be nearly being eaten by cannibals.

Pounding on the door of Ianto’s flat, Jack allowed only a few moments to pass before he opened his wrist-strap and used it to override the electronic lock.

Inside the flat was dark and quiet. All the shades were drawn and aside from a slow drip coming from the kitchen faucet, there were no other sounds.

Jack sucked in his breath and rushed through the flat to the bedroom, his heart leaping in his chest as he took in the sight before him.

Ianto was on his stomach, spread eagle on the bed and still dressed in his blood-soaked clothes from the day prior. In one hand he clutched an empty whiskey bottle and in the other, a framed photo of he and Lisa grinning wildly, cuddled together on a blanket. Jack crossed the room in two large steps and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Ianto’s shallow breath on his hand. Extricating the bottle and photo from Ianto’s hands, Jack gripped the back of his shoulders and shook him gently.

“Ianto,” Jack placed his lips directly on his ear, softly kissing and whispering at the same time.

“Wake up,” Jack murmured.

“Hnnnnnnggggg,” Ianto grunted and stirred.

“That’s it, come on,” Jack shook him a little harder, trying not to gag on the stink of him. Blood, sweat, adrenaline, and alcohol made for a very unpleasant odor.

“Stop it,” Ianto finally grumbled as his eyes fluttered open. They were glassy and red, either from the alcohol consumption or crying, though likely from both.

“Get up,” Jack murmured as he tried to urge Ianto into a sitting position.

“No,” Ianto slurred, closing his eyes and turning his face away from Jack.

“Yes,” Jack said firmly as he rolled Ianto over and pulled him into a sitting position, dragging his legs over the edge of the bed. Jack ignored his moans of protestation and pain.

“What do you want, Jack,” Ianto pleaded, his tone frustrated and pathetic. His glazed eyes examined Jack with obvious resentment.

“I want to make sure you’re okay,” Jack said as he knelt on one knee and pulled off the scuffed and blood-stained shoes Ianto was still wearing.

“You didn’t show up today and you didn’t call,” Jack added as he started unbuttoning Ianto’s blood stained shirt, “we had a deal; always call, remember?”

“I can do it myself,” Ianto said, roughly pushing Jack’s hands away and fumbling with the buttons.

“Then do it,” Jack said, suddenly angry. Standing, he watched with mounting frustration. The pitiful man before him bore no resemblance to the hero that Tosh had described to him that morning. It was hard to imagine the hung-over man now sitting on the edge of the bed, head-butting anyone.

“Take off your pants and get in the shower,” Jack ordered, “I’ll make coffee.”

Leaving Ianto to finish undressing, Jack moved into the kitchen, tossing his greatcoat over the back of the sofa as he went.  It wasn’t long before he had coffee brewing and was examining the contents of the fridge for something to feed them.  Jack heard the shower start and he hoped the hot water would help detoxify and ease Ianto’s sore muscles.

Emerging a short while later, Ianto was dressed not in his usual three-piece suit but in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Jack had only seen him dressed in casual clothing three times that he remembered and he found himself ogling him unashamedly. His hair was slightly damp and Jack noticed there was a slight curl in the front.  Ianto’s face, though marred with cuts and bruises, was clean shaven. 

“I doubt it’s as good as yours, but it should help,” Jack said as he handed Ianto a hot cup of coffee.

“Feeling better?” Jack asked as Ianto slowly lowered himself onto one of the two stools set up at the breakfast bar separating the kitchen and the living room.

Offering a curt nod, Ianto raised the cup and inhaled the aroma before taking a sip. Jack watched him closely. He moved slowly and deliberately, as if it hurt to even breathe. Jack imagined it must. From what Tosh had told him, Ianto really had taken the brunt of the abuse.

“Thank you,” Ianto said, quite formally.  

“How are you?” Jack asked, leaning forward on his elbows as Ianto shrugged, then winced. Jack straightened and stared at Ianto, concerned. The man was in obvious pain and Jack had no idea what to do to help ease it.

“I had to toss the bandage for my ribs,” Ianto said, staring at his hands, examining his cuticles, “it was pretty rank.”

“Owen can wrap you back up,” Jack offered but Ianto shook his head.

“I’m not going to the Hub,” he said firmly, taking another sip of coffee.  Jack just nodded and stared at him as he shifted, seemingly to find the least painful position to sit.

“I can…?” Jack trailed off as Ianto looked up at him curiously.

“If you want me to?” Jack finished, starting around the breakfast bar that separated them. Ianto watched him for a moment than nodded.

“There’s a first aid kit in the bedroom closet. I bought it when-,” Ianto stopped suddenly, and if there were more to that sentence Jack knew he wasn’t going to hear it.

Nodding, Jack retreated to the closet. Ianto’s suits were hung neatly, evenly spaced and arranged by color and style; pinstripes, blue, black, gray; red shirts, gray shirts, white shirts, blue shirts. There were so many ties on the three separate tie racks that Jack, at first glance, noticed at least 20 he’d yet to see worn. There were roughly ten pairs of shoes on the floor, arranged neatly in a line and shining brightly from freshly applied shoe-wax. Jack didn’t miss the small section of closet that held a handful of outfits that likely had belonged to Lisa. At the back of the deep closet Jack glimpsed the red first aid kit.

“Right. Shirt off,” Jack returned to the kitchen and stood before Ianto as the younger man slowly started to peel off his t-shirt. Jack reached out to help, pulling the shirt over his head and trying not to react to the sight of his battered body. His entire torso was black and blue. The area near his navel was so black Jack wondered how it was even possible there were no internal injuries.

“Shit,” Jack whispered under his breath.

He looked back up at Ianto and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, the guilt and the realization that it was his fault Ianto was hurt was finally hitting him. “I never should have made you come with us.”

Ianto gave a half-hearted shrug and closed his eyes against the obvious pain of the gesture.

“Wouldn’t have prevented what happened to everyone else,” Ianto said quietly.

Jack didn’t respond to the truth of the statement as he set to work wrapping Ianto’s ribs as tight as he could, trying not to cause him more pain.  He found it hard to care about the others at the moment because Ianto, the only one who really shouldn’t have been there, had been and was hurt. Hurt as a result of Jack’s stubbornness and selfishness. 

 “That good?” Jack asked when he’d finished, standing back to take in his work.

“Yes,” Ianto replied, seeming to breathe a little easier, “Thank you.”

“Seriously?” Jack laughed bitterly.

“Don’t thank me,” he added, helping Ianto back into his t-shirt. “Remember this is my fault.”

Ianto didn’t respond at first, he just looked at him.  Jack felt growing discomfort under his scrutiny, it was a feeling he wasn’t used to. 

“What?” He asked, the urge to run from the apartment threatening to overtake him.

“Why are you really here, Jack?” Ianto finally asked.

“I’m just an employee, and not a very helpful one as of late,” Ianto dropped his eyes and Jack felt the urge to run disappear.

“Are you still drunk?” Jack asked, avoiding the question. If he were honest he might frighten Ianto and really, Jack wasn’t ready to try and explain his feelings and actions; he wasn’t even sure what they were. All he knew was that the flirtations he’d been participating in since Ianto’s arrival at Torchwood had suddenly become something more to Jack. He didn’t just want to flirt, he wanted to take action, and that was a truly scary thought.

“No,” Ianto gave Jack a sad smile, “I don’t think so.”

“Should I make us something to eat? You have enough eggs in your fridge for one of my famous omelets,” Jack asked, glad Ianto had let his inquiry go for now.

“You cook?” Ianto chuckled and Jack felt his heart warm. It had been far too long since he’d heard that sound.

“You have no idea,” Jack pretended to be affronted as he moved into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto was banished to the couch while Jack cleaned up the mess he’d made cooking. Cleaning up was not a job Jack was used to, but it was the least he could do. Ianto deserved a break after the last few days.

When Jack had cleared the dishes he moved to join Ianto. Standing over him, Jack watched him for awhile. His eyes were closed and his arms were wrapped protectively around his middle. His breathing was shallow but strong.

“It’s rude to stare, sir” Ianto said finally, opening one eye to Jack.

“But you’re so nice to stare at,” Jack said, shrugging unapologetically. He perched on the edge of the coffee table opposite Ianto. With his elbows resting on his knees Jack’s fingertips were centimeters from Ianto’s legs. Jack wanted desperately to reach out and touch the other man.

“I should probably go and let you get some rest,” Jack said reluctantly as he noticed his coat was half under Ianto.

 _It will smell like him later,_ Jack thought with nervous excitement.

“If you want,” Ianto replied, a strange expression on his face. Jack stared at him, trying to determine if the feeling he was getting from him was only wishful thinking on his part; that he wanted Jack to stay.

“Or; I can stay,” Jack said softly, taking a chance and stretching the fingers of his right hand to touch Ianto’s leg. Jack kept his eyes on the other man as his hand became bolder, moving to the top of the knee and gently squeezing. Jack watched the younger man look down at Jack’s hand on his leg, then raise his eyes to look at Jack. Not seeing fear or trepidation in his look, Jack reached out his other hand to match the movements until he was gently massaging both legs.

Leaning his head back against the sofa, Ianto closed his eyes as a soft smile played on his lips. Jack had to work hard not to grin with adolescent joy as he gently worked the muscles around Ianto’s knees, the lower quadriceps and the upper calves.

They sat like that for awhile; Ianto quiet while Jack kneaded the knotted muscles in Ianto’s legs. He was about to lift Ianto’s legs to his lap and start working towards massaging his feet when Ianto shifted on the sofa, catching Jack’s attention.

“I lied,” Ianto said softly.

Jack paused as he felt his defenses rise. Ianto glanced at Jack briefly before shifting his eyes around the room.

“About?” Jack prompted him, speaking carefully as he slowly pulled back his hands.

 “About Lisa. Being the last person I kissed,” Ianto looked at Jack, “I was mad at you. It was silly and petty but there it is.”

Jack nodded slowly, unsure of what Ianto was really trying to say. Did he remember Jack’s resurrection kiss?

“So, Lisa wasn’t the last person you snogged,” Jack repeated slowly.

Ianto rolled his eyes and looked at Jack purposefully.

“Jack, I remember,” he said finally, his neck and cheeks turning a bright pink.

“Oh,” Jack smiled nervously as his hands itched to reach out and pull Ianto’s bruised body to him.

“Though I’m not sure I would call that a kiss, per se,” Ianto added, staring at his hands.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, “it was a bit one-sided.”

Jack watched Ianto’s blush deepen and he tried not to laugh. It was so bright against the stark white of his t-shirt.

“So,” Jack added, “what now?”

“Dunno,” Ianto shook his head as he raised his eyes to meet Jack’s, offering a tired smile.

“You’re not upset?” Jack asked, suddenly afraid he’d mistaken the signals. He wasn’t going to deny that he had been immediately attracted to Ianto from the moment he’d opened his mouth to introduce himself. It was more than his piercing blue eyes and perfect lips; it was the shy smile he reserved for special moments, the way he would stand with his hands propped on his hips. It was the way he smelled and his dry sense of humor. 

“No,” Ianto replied quickly. Jack smiled and felt his stomach do a small back flip.

“I mean-,” Ianto looked a bit panicked and Jack could see his neck and cheeks turning pink once again. Laughing, Jack reached out and caressed Ianto’s cheek, feeling a tug in his groin as the other man closed his eyes and leaned his head into Jack’s touch.

“Good,” Jack traced his fingers down Ianto’s neck and before he had time to consider the implications of what he was doing, he leaned far forward and gently kissed Ianto’s forehead. The younger man didn’t move or make a sound, though Jack thought he heard a sharp intake of breath.

Jack moved from the coffee table and sat next to Ianto on the sofa, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into his chest. Ianto came willingly, resting his head on Jack’s collar.  Jack buried his face in Ianto’s hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as his fingers gently traced paths up, down, and around Ianto’s neck and shoulders.

It felt completely natural to Jack, being with Ianto.  They sat like that for awhile, neither man speaking. Soon Ianto’s breathing deepened and when Jack pulled back he saw Ianto had fallen asleep. Gently pulling one of Ianto’s arms loose from around his waist, Jack placed his hand in his. He couldn’t help smiling as Ianto’s hand gripped Jack’s, even in sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The yell woke them both. Jack, dozing with one hand clutching Ianto’s and the other threaded through his hair, jumped at the sound.  Ianto was struggling against Jack, trying to pull away as he whimpered and yelled incoherently. Jack used both arms to hold Ianto to him as he whispered soothing words.

“Run!” Ianto suddenly yelled loudly as he jerked hard out of Jack’s arms, his eyes wide with fear.

“It’s okay,” Jack reached out for him, but Ianto recoiled like a wild animal.

“Ianto,” Jack soothed, dropping his arms but staring hard at the other man, trying to catch his eye to calm him.

“Jack,” Ianto breathed out Jack’s name in relief as his eyes seemed to focus.  His body fell against the back of the sofa.

“Yeah,” Jack reached a hand out, placing it on one of Ianto’s legs in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“It was terrible,” Ianto said quietly, “the cleaver was blood-stained and cold and the pressure of the blade on my neck…A few seconds later and I’d have been dead. You saved my life.”

Jack stared at Ianto, trying to mask the horror he felt inside. It was one thing to hear the others tell it, but to hear it from Ianto…Jack shuddered to think if he had been a few seconds later. They’d be putting Ianto’s body into cold storage right now.

“But I wasn’t late and everyone is okay,” Jack replied as he inched forward. They’d already taken the first baby steps towards this, and the closer they got the more Jack wanted it to happen; the more he needed it to happen; the more he thought Ianto wanted and needed it too.

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Ianto whispered, his blue eyes staring at Jack thoughtfully.

“It’s over now,” Jack whispered as he shifted even closer. He wasn’t very good at offering words of comfort, but he could offer comfort in other ways. He only hoped he hadn’t been misreading Ianto’s signals this whole time. He didn’t think he was, but stuck in this time he had doubts; even with the many years of practice he’d had honing his instincts to this sort of thing. This wasn’t the 50th Century after all; people of this time held on tight to their quaint labels.

Jack inched even closer; the desire to feel Ianto’s lips on his was so strong that he didn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to. He didn’t pause as he moved in, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips softly against Ianto’s in what could be considered their first real kiss (the one they were both completely conscious for anyway).

Jack didn’t force it. He allowed the kiss develop naturally, giving Ianto the control. Inside he was screaming for more but he knew he had to let the younger man dictate what happened next.

Ianto’s lips were soft and full and at first met Jack’s advances apprehensively. Suddenly his lips parted and the kiss turned hungry. Jack responded greedily, moving in closer and supporting Ianto’s neck as the kiss intensified. Jack’s tongue darted out, meeting Ianto’s and dancing around as they quickly found a natural rhythm. Jack’s heart was racing and he could feel Ianto’s heart pounding as he pressed his chest against the younger man, trying to be conscientious of his injuries while at the same time desperate to be even closer to him. The electricity between them was intoxicating and Jack felt he could kiss like this forever. When Ianto’s hands came up to cup Jack’s face, he knew he was done for. He wanted this man so much that he was certain he would do anything to have him. 

All the attraction Jack had been keeping in check came flooding forward and it was all he could do to control his wandering hands, allowing them to stray only enough to feel the tight muscles in Ianto’s shoulders and back. Jack desperately wanted to explore every inch of this man’s body but he knew he had to give him time to heal. There would be time for more, he was certain. Based on Ianto’s response to his advances Jack was sure this was just the beginning.

The passion began to ease and Jack felt Ianto start to pull away. He let him go, though reluctantly. Jack’s breathing was heavy and fast and his lips felt swollen and used.

“There’s more where that came from,” Jack grinned as the two men broke apart and stared at each other, breathless.

Ianto laughed nervously, his already flushed skin turning a shade darker.

Jack winked, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes. He felt Ianto place a hand in his and Jack immediately gripped back.

“I’m…Well, I’m not sure what this means,” Ianto stammered, avoiding Jack’s gaze and visibly nervous.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jack said as he grasped Ianto’s hand, his thumb stroking the smooth skin.

Ianto seemed to accept this answer and nodding he leaned back into the sofa. They sat quietly together for awhile.

“Jack?” Ianto finally spoke, his voice subdued.

“Hmm?” Jack turned to look at the young man. Their heads were inches apart, resting against the back of the sofa.

“Let’s keep this between us, yeah?” Ianto’s expression made him appear so young.  Jack leaned towards him and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, what I do on my own time is no one else’s business,” he added.

He meant it too. His personal life was off limits to his team and if whatever this was continued with Ianto, it would remain off limits.

“I’m breaking my own rules though,” Jack laughed as he pulled away. Ianto raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“You know, about getting involved with a member of my team,” Jack elaborated as he recalled the many other times he’d broken his “rule”. This certainly wasn’t the first time, and undoubtedly it wasn’t the last.

“Oh,” Ianto gave a nervous laugh.

“You okay?” Jack asked, releasing Ianto’s hand and pulling back further to get a better look at him.

“Yeah, brilliant,” Ianto smiled but Jack could tell it was forced, tired.

“I should go,” Jack said, suddenly afraid he was coming on too strong. This man had likely never had a same-sex encounter before and was probably beginning to freak out about it. Jack knew he needed to give him space and time to think about what had happened. He just hoped Ianto didn’t come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to explore things further. Jack had a feeling they could be really good together.

Standing up, Jack pulled on his coat and moved to the door. Ianto was still struggling to get off the sofa when Jack turned to say goodbye.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jack apologized as he hurried back and helped Ianto up from the couch.

“Thanks,” Ianto laughed, hugging his midsection.

“Take some pain medication and go to sleep,” Jack reached out and lightly stroked Ianto’s cheek.

“If you feel up to it, come in tomorrow. But call if not,” Jack added and Ianto nodded.

Kissing Ianto’s cheeks and forehead, Jack quickly turned on his heels and strode back to the door. Turning back once more, he and Ianto stared at each other for a moment before Jack opened the door and left.

Out in the hall he let out a long deep breath and smiled to himself. Somehow, the horrible events of the last few days had kick-started something potentially great and for once Jack actually felt like things were going to be okay.

 


	7. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Greeks Bearing Gifts".

“Tosh told me some things, about what she heard in your head.”

 Jack stood in the living room. Ianto could feel his eyes on him as he put water on for tea. He paused and glanced at Jack.

“Did she,” Ianto replied slowly, wracking his brain as he tried to recall all the things he’d thought about over the last few days; but there was too much. His mind was constantly working, thinking about too many things, most of the time too fast to take note before the thoughts were gone and forgotten.

“About Lisa?” Jack added in a forced casual tone that Ianto recognized immediately.  

_Lisa._

Ianto sighed inwardly. It was true he thought about Lisa a lot, and sometimes when she crossed his mind it was in a sad way. Ever since he and Jack had kissed though…the sad moments had been few and far between. More and more Ianto found himself thinking and missing Lisa less while he tried to understand his feelings for Jack. Lisa would always be with him, but he’d begun to put that part of his life behind him. He’d started to realize that there was more for him to do, and see, and feel. He was moving on.

“Are you okay?” Jack was in the kitchen now, standing close and watching Ianto pour milk into their mugs.

“I’m fine, Jack,” Ianto replied cooly.

“Yeah, you sound fine,” Jack replied sarcastically and with a raised eyebrow.

“I am fine,” Ianto said again, gentler and with his eyes glued to Jack’s. “Believe it or not I don’t go around pining for Lisa all hours of the day. I do think of other things.”

Ianto held his stare as Jack’s eyes moved back and forth, seeming to search for any hint of a lie.

“Then what made you feel so desperate that Tosh felt the need to confide in me? She was genuinely worried,” Jack finally asked.

“I don’t know, Jack,” Ianto sighed, trying to control his exasperation.

Over the last few days Ianto had thought of Lisa, and of Jack. He’d thought about the case, and had moments of loneliness and isolation. Mostly he remembered confusion over his feelings. He’d loved Lisa deeply and there was no doubt in his mind that he would have married her and lived happily with her forever. But she was gone now; and Jack had come into his life in an important way. Ianto would never have met Jack if not for what had happened to Lisa at Canary Wharf; and now he couldn’t imagine his life without him.

Ianto was happy when he was near Jack. The exuberant energy that he exuded was contagious and Jack made Ianto want to be better. He was infatuated with him and he knew it. Only now he was fighting feelings that were trying to be stronger than that and he didn’t know what that meant.

“I don’t remember,” Ianto added truthfully as he shrugged and averted his eyes, suddenly very conscious of the proximity of the other man.

“Well something was bothering you,” Jack stated as he moved next to Ianto. They were both leaning against the countertop now, shoulder to shoulder. Ianto could feel Jack’s body heat radiating through his blue button-down shirt.

“I have good days and bad days, same as anyone,” Ianto shrugged. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about the awkward situation that he found himself in.

“How often do you have bad days?” Jack asked, his hand finding Ianto’s and slowly stroking the back. A bolt of pleasure ran through him and he involuntarily flinched.

“Not as often as you probably think,” Ianto replied in a controlled voice as he stared straight ahead, trying to handle his body’s reactions to Jack’s touch.

“I feel bad for Tosh, too,” he added. “She was happy and we had to take that away from her. I can empathize with her in that regard.”

Ianto immediately regretted the words as he felt Jack move away from him, breaking contact. As soon as he did, Ianto wanted him back.

“Ianto,” Jack sighed.

“I didn’t mean…,” Ianto sighed as well, throwing his head back he stared at his kitchen ceiling. “It is what it is.”

“I am sorry,” Jack added. Ianto looked at the older man, examining his expression which conveyed quite clearly Jack’s apology.

“Honestly Jack, I’m moving on,” Ianto nodded as Jack moved to stand in front of him again.

“Well I am glad,” he smirked and Ianto rolled his eyes, wishing he were brave enough to move closer to Jack. Wishing he knew what to do to let the other man know he wanted him closer to him. The kettle picked that moment to start screaming, breaking the tension, whether it was real or imagined on Ianto’s part. Pouring hot water into their mugs, Ianto followed Jack into the living room.

“We can watch a James Bond film,” Ianto suggested, suddenly panicked about what Jack might expect. They hadn’t discussed or even mentioned what had happened between them the last time Jack had been over, and nothing like that had happened between them since then either.

“Sure,” Jack smiled and taking the proffered mug of tea let his fingers linger a bit. They settled on the sofa side by side and soon Ianto was lost in the world of James Bond.

The film was near the half-way point when Ianto was surprised by Jack abruptly turning and lightly kissing the corner of his mouth. Ianto sat still, completely unsure of himself and what he should do.  His body was sending him all sorts of signals that he couldn’t make any sense of.

“Ianto,” Jack had moved closer, and when he spoke his name Ianto could feel his breath on his neck. It was arousing.

“Jack, I’m not quite sure what to do,” Ianto blurted, feeling panicked. Jack laughed.

“There are no rules. Just do what you feel,” he replied in a soft voice as he pulled back slightly and gently turned Ianto’s face to him.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Ianto nodded and slowly moved in towards Jack. The older man met him halfway and their lips parted immediately upon touching. Ianto surrendered himself to the primal hunger he felt for human contact. He stopped thinking about what he was doing and who he was doing it with and just let the kiss progress. It felt too good, it felt natural.

One hand gripped the back of Jack’s neck while the other pulled his body closer. Their mouths and tongues and lips moved as the men devoured each other. Jack’s hand moved over Ianto’s body, caressing his back, trailing hot lines down nearing Ianto’s lower back before moving around the front to move up, finally resting on his chest. His hands gently pressed against Ianto, stimulating bloodflow as Ianto’s nipples hardened under Jack’s touch.

Shifting on the sofa Jack leaned into Ianto, stretching his body out on top of the younger man as he gently pushed Ianto down on his back. Ianto felt the hard pressure of Jack as he slowly moved against him and he let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation.

Mouths working, breath coming in frantic bursts, Ianto felt Jack shift a bit as he lessened the pressure on Ianto. Hands gripping and running through Jack’s hair, Ianto was unprepared for the sudden feel of Jack’s hand rubbing against his cock.

“Oh!” Ianto started and pulled back. Jack just grinned at him.

“This isn’t your first time,” Jack said, slightly teasing. “I mean, you don’t kiss like a man who hasn’t kissed another man before.”

“Kissing yes,” Ianto admitted, his voice breathy. He’d kissed Jack once before but he knew that wasn’t what he meant. The other instance had been in college. One night he’d gotten drunk and had found himself making out with an upperclassman. 

“More?” Jack questioned, his fingers gently tracing Ianto’s ever growing hard-on through the fabric of his trousers.

“Not really, and I wasn’t exactly sober either,” Ianto gasped with pain and pleasure as Jack suddenly squeezed him.

Jack softly laughed and lowered his mouth, kissing Ianto with a gentle intensity. Ianto relaxed and allowed himself to be in the moment. It felt so good.

Jack’s hand moved from Ianto’s groin and he experienced a moment of disappointment before he felt the familiar tug of someone unbuttoning his trousers. He began to panic again, but quickly pushed away the fear, giving in to the sensations of the moment. Ianto moved his own hands down from Jack’s head and neck to his broad shoulders. He could feel the older man’s muscles move beneath his shirt fabric as Jack unzipped Ianto’s pants.

Jack pulled back then, his expression questioning. Ianto answered by pulling Jack back down into a kiss, savoring the feel of his lips, silently giving Jack permission while greedily asking for more with his tongue.

Jack responded by reaching one hand into Ianto’s trousers and freeing his erection. Ianto’s breath caught as he felt Jack wrap his hand around the shaft, stroking it softly. Jack’s touch felt so damn good, Ianto couldn’t help the soft moans of pleasure escaping his mouth as he and Jack continued to kiss, but more softly now; more passionately.

Quickly Ianto found it hard to breath and with a loud moan pulled back from Jack, burying his face in the other man’s chest while Jack continued to stroke and pull at Ianto’s responsive cock. As Jack’s movements gained speed, Ianto found his hips thrusting to match Jack’s ministrations. The pressure of the sensations was building at a fever pitch and Ianto felt himself quickly nearing climax.

Gasping, Ianto bit hard at Jack’s chest as he came in the other man’s hand. Ianto spasmed as the orgasm washed over him. It was more powerful than any orgasm he’d been able to give himself in the last year.

“Oh God I’m sorry,” Ianto immediately panted as he raised his hands to hide his face, embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jack smiled gently, using his free hand to pull Ianto’s hands from his face.

“That was amazing,” Jack murmured as he lowered his head and nibbled at Ianto’s jawline. Immediately Ianto felt a stirring in his groin at the touch of his lips.

“Jack, I don’t think I can again,” Ianto whispered breathlessly as Jack’s hand, still holding his cock, squeezed hard and began pulling and stroking again. Ianto gasped as he felt himself growing hard, fast.

“Oh yes, I think you can,” Jack whispered in Ianto’s ear as he gently guided one of Ianto’s hands down to his very hard cock.

Though petrified, Ianto found he wanted too even though he was scared to death of doing it wrong. Fumbling with the button, Ianto finally got Jack’s pants open enough that his very swollen dick popped out almost on its own. Ianto heard Jack groan with relief and when Ianto gently touched it the older man moaned louder.

Ianto wrapped his hand around Jack, marveling at his size. For a brief moment, Ianto wondered what it’d be like to take Jack’s cock in his mouth. Squeezing and pulling, Ianto mimicked Jack’s touch and movements as they came together, breathing hard and calling out.

The second time was stronger than the first for Ianto, and he immediately wondered if he had one more in him. He was sure Jack did.

Kissing and breathless, Jack pulled his hand away from Ianto and lowered his body directly on top of him, grinding their naked cocks together and giving Ianto another level of sensations to process. Quickly he felt his dick harden again as he spread his legs wider and moved his hands down Jack’s body trying to pull him closer.

“I knew you had it in you,” Jack whispered in his ear as they rubbed their slippery, cum-soaked cocks together. Their hips moved slowly in opposite circles as Ianto pushed up hard against Jack’s weight, desperate for release again.

“How long can you do this?” Ianto gasped as he involuntarily raised his hips to Jack, trying to get more friction on his cock; trying to come again. His hands moved to Jack’s ass where Ianto could feel his muscles moving, firm. Ianto squeezed and pulled Jack down into him. He heard Jack murmur encouragement and a deeper ache of pleasure began to blossom in his groin.

“All night,” Jack kissed Ianto.

“Oh God, Jack,” Ianto whispered desperately as he opened his legs even wider.

 Jack pulled back, looking down at Ianto. Then still smiling mischievously, he slowly moved down Ianto’s body, biting gently at his chest before poising himself over Ianto. Before he could respond to what he knew was going to happen, he felt Jack tug his pants down to his knees and then Jack’s mouth was on him, taking him fully and applying an immense amount of pressure.

“Oh shit,” Ianto gasped as his hips thrust up in reflex. Jack’s hands moved to Ianto’s hips, pressing them down while his mouth moved slowly up and down the length of Ianto, his tongue applying pressure to the underside of his cock. Ianto threaded his hands through Jack’s thick hair as he gulped air and murmured the other man’s name over and over.

Taking his time, Jack sucked Ianto’s cock slow and deep, taking him completely.

“Oh God,” Ianto cried out as Jack traced his tongue around the tip then down the underside of his  cock, ending at his balls where he suddenly took them in his mouth as well. Releasing one side of Ianto’s hips, Jack’s hand began to stroke the skin between his legs as he licked his way back up his cock.

“Jack, please,” Ianto groaned, the pressure nearing too much for him to take. He looked down at the older man and with a pleased grin Jack took Ianto back in his mouth, but this time he moved quick and with determination. He sucked and bit and with his hand he gripped the base of Ianto’s shaft and squeezed in time with his movements.

With a loud cry, Ianto came hard in Jack’s mouth, shuddering and gasping as Jack continued to suck and squeeze throughout Ianto’s orgasm, prolonging the pleasure. Even after he was spent, Jack continued to work his mouth on Ianto’s cock, though it was growing flaccid until finally he reached down and pulled Jack off him.

“What the hell was that,” Ianto whispered with wide-eyes.

“A little something I learned from a friend,” Jack winked.

“Holy shit, Jack,” Ianto closed his eyes as he felt the other man move up and lay down on top of him. He could feel Jack had a massive hard-on that needed some attention.

“I can teach you,” Jack whispered in his ear and Ianto just laughed nervously.

“Not today,” he replied.

“I’m sorry,” Ianto added, turning his head so he and Jack were practically touching noses.

“It’s okay,” Jack smiled, “for now.”

Moving his head forward just a bit, Ianto kissed Jack softly, parting his lips with his tongue while his hand reached down and grasped Jack’s cock. Ianto felt Jack moan into his mouth and the two men shifted slightly on the sofa until they were lying side by side. Ianto worked on Jack for only a few minutes before the other man came, thrusting into Ianto’s hands while he gripped Ianto’s face and kissed him hard.

They stayed like that for awhile. Until Ianto heard the music of the closing credits of the James Bond film, and until Jack suggested they clean up. He suggested they shower together, but Ianto didn’t think he could take any more and so while Jack showered he cleared the tea and spot cleaned the sofa, unknowingly with a silly smile on his face.


	8. The Stopwatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "They Keep Killing Suzie".

“Ianto,” Jack cooed, letting the last vowel drag. “Come out come out, wherever you are!”

Silence; save the echo of Jack’s voice and the distant sound of dripping water. The Hub was empty. Tosh, Owen and Gwen had gone home long ago. It was just Jack and Ianto.

Smirking, he realized Ianto wasn’t going to make this easy, but that was okay; he was up for the challenge.

“Ianto!” Jack called in a sing-song voice as he strode towards the records room. The Welshman had a fetish with the old files; Jack was certain that was where he’d be.

His footfalls reverberated as Jack’s heavy-boots clashed with the unfinished concrete floor and walls. His eyes, slowly growing accustomed to the gloomy darkness, searched for any clues to where Ianto was hiding.

Reaching the room, Jack flipped the light-switch and swept a look across the expanse searching for any strange shadows. Suddenly doubting that Ianto was down here, Jack turned to leave when his eye was caught by a handprint-shape in the layer of dust on the top of the file cabinet nearest the door. He was here…

Jack sighed loudly as if to indicate frustration while he simultaneously crept slowly forward on his toes. The wall by the door was lined with file cabinets; some of them were placed right next to each other while others were spaced apart just slightly. Jack didn’t think a man would fit between any of them but then again, Ianto was fairly thin.

Halfway down the wall Jack saw the top of Ianto’s head, just barely peeking over the top of a cabinet. His perfectly coifed hair blended well with the deep shadows that fell between the cabinets. Jack suppressed a laugh as he silently crept closer.

Pausing for one more moment Jack sank down, gathering energy in his legs before he suddenly leapt forward to the space where he knew Ianto to be hidiing.

“Gotcha!” He yelled as he reached out and grabbed a wildly startled Ianto, waggling his eyebrows at him as he pulled the stopwatch out of his pocket and looking at the face.

“Seven minutes, 34 seconds this time,” he smirked, “You know the rules.”

Ianto glared at him, shrugging Jack’s hand off his shoulder as he stood fully upright and unbuttoned his trousers.

Jack stepped back and watched with amusement, and increasing arousal. They’d been playing “Naked Hide and Seek” for the last few hours and while Jack had found Ianto every time, Ianto had not found Jack even once. Thus, Jack was still fully clothed while Ianto was now in only his boxers and dress socks.

“I’m not sure you’re playing fair,” Ianto mumbled as he threw his newly shed trousers over his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of him.

Jack barked laughter. _If he only knew the real rules to this game,_ he thought. Of all the games they’d tried playing using the stopwatch, this one was Jack’s favorite. Inside he was anxious for the day he could explain the real rules of the game, and he greatly looked forward to finding Ianto then.

“Oh believe me, I’m playing more than fair,” Jack teased as he unashamedly eyeballed Ianto’s smooth skin, not bothering to hide the fact that he was checking him out. The younger man, while not heavily muscular, still had nice tone in his upper arms and chest and in the harsh light of the dusty records room, the shadows amplified his pectorals. Jack licked his lips as he reached out and traced a finger along Ianto’s clavicle, grinning wider as Ianto broke out in gooshflesh. Jack could see Ianto was swelling beneath his boxers, and it made his own cock ache with incresing pressure inside his trousers.

“Jack,” Ianto’s voice was soft.

“Hmmm?” Jack looked the other man in the eyes as he moved close enough to reach around his body with both hands and placing them low, just where the waistband of Ianto’s boxers met his bare skin. Jack felt the hardness of the other man as he pressed his own arousal against him.

Leaning his head forward, Jack lightly kissed the area where Ianto’s neck and shoulder met, while he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of Ianto’s boxers and gripped his bare buttocks. He heard Ianto give a slight moan as the younger man laid his head into the crook of Jack’s neck, his hands pressed to his chest massaging Jack’s more prominent pectorals.

“We can take this somewhere more comfortable,” Jack whispered in Ianto’s ear as he nibbled on the outer rim.

Ianto pulled back, nodding.

Jack smiled affectionately as he placed a light kiss on Ianto’s pouty lips. He started to move back but Ianto suddenly lurched forward and pulled Jack roughly to him, attacking his mouth with his lips and tongue. Jack, momentarily surprised, responded with his own fervor. Hands still on Ianto’s naked ass, Jack pulled his groin to him, grinding his growing erection against Ianto’s. The younger man groaned again as the two men’s tongues danced around each other.

After a few minutes, Jack pulled back. They were both breathless, Ianto’s lips were puffy and his eyes were thick with desire.

“Come on,” Jack croaked, his pants increasingly uncomfortably tight against his groin. Pulling his hands, regrettably, out of Ianto’s boxers, Jack grasped one of his hands in his own, threading their fingers as he led them up to his bunk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack had never revealed his bunk area to anyone before, and as he watched Ianto climb down the ladder to join him, he suddenly felt nervous.

Ianto was still dressed only in his boxer shorts and socks, with his trousers still slung over his shoulder. He dropped down the last few rungs and looked around the sparsely decorated space that Jack called home.

“Nice,” Ianto said with the same dry, even tone he used to order lunch, or debate with Owen, or question Jack about an incomplete case report. Even still, Jack could hear the sarcasm beneath.

Jack looked around the living space with the eye of someone seeing it for the first time. The small, twin size bed was against the far wall, opposite the ladder that was the only way in and out. The walls were whitewashed concrete, and devoid of any decoration. There was a tiny metal table at the head of the bed, atop it a sterile looking lamp and a thick volume of Scottish poems. A small arched doorway behind the table led into the bathroom where there was a toilet, sink, and stall shower. At the opposite end of the small room, at the foot of the bunk, was a portable closet that contained several pairs of the same blue trousers Jack always wore and an assortment of button-down shirts. Also hanging in the closet were several braces of various colors. On the floor in front of the closet were two pairs of identical brown work boots, scuffed and worn. Next to the closet was a short bookcase that held many of Jack’s favorite books; books he’d collected through the years, including a few quite valuable, rare first editions. Atop the bookcase was a single photo of a dark-haired woman with a blond-haired young boy. A moment of panic seized Jack and he hoped Ianto didn’t ask about the photo. He wasn’t prepared to lie; he didn’t want to lie. He also didn’t want to have to explain…it was too soon. He had already exposed Ianto to a new world of intimacy, he didn’t want to freak the poor kid out with the explanation that he was, for all intents and purposes, immortal as well.

“I don’t believe we are down here to talk about my decorating,” Jack moved boldly towards Ianto, sliding his braces off his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, trying to distract him from looking too closely at the photo; Jack made a mental note to put it in his personal safe later. Someday he’d tell Ianto about his past, some far, future day. Not today.

Jack moved close to the other man as he threw his shirt to the ground and unbuttoned his trousers. He smiled suggestively as Ianto’s face grew pink; as Ianto’s eyes lingered on Jack’s chest.

“No, I don’t believe we are,” Ianto replied softly. Jack smiled and in one quick movement shed not only his trousers, but his boxers as well. The freeing his extremely swollen cock was welcome and Jack nearly sighed with relief.

Kicking his clothes to the far corner of the room, Jack smirked then without a word he crouched before Ianto, pulled the other man’s boxers down and put his mouth around Ianto, engulfing him fully. Jack felt Ianto’s hands in his hair as he gripped tight to Jack, panting with the pressure of Jack’s mouth and tongue.

Jack, who had perfected the deep-throat technique long ago, took Ianto deep and holding him there, applying as much pressure as he could before he slowly moved back. With a loud pop, Jack pulled off and let Ianto’s swollen dick come free. Ianto groaned loadly, his hands still holding tight in Jack’s thick hair.

Licking around the base of Ianto’s cock, taking his balls into his mouth and tonguing the entire length of the other man, Jack let one hand move up and he started to finger the sensitive skin of Ianto’s butthole.

“Jack!” Ianto cried out weakly as his knees tried to buckle and he struggled to remain standing. Jack smiled as he applied more pressure to the entrance, easing the hole wider as he very slowly worked his finger deeper.

With his free hand, Jack took Ianto back in his mouth. He worked his finger into Ianto’s ass while his tongue licked and circled and stroked and it wasn’t long before Ianto came hard and loud, crying out while he thrust against Jack. He felt him ejaculate into the back of his throat as he held him tight in his mouth, his finger about an inch deep into his ass.

Jack pulled his finger slowly out of Ianto’s ass while the young man finished his orgasm, becoming smaller, flaccid, in Jack’s mouth. As his tight grasp on Jack’s hair loosened, Jack pulled off. Placing a few butterfly kisses on his navel, Jack then raised his eyes.

“You know,” Jack looked up from his position on his knees, “I _was_ the winner of our Naked Hide and Seek game…,” he trailed off, hoping Ianto understood his insinuation. He would never force Ianto to move faster and do things he wasn’t ready for, but Jack desperately wanted Ianto’s perfect little mouth on his dick, sucking and getting him off. He grew even harder just thinking about it.

Ianto, still panting and recovering, looked down at Jack. His expression was a little unsure.

“Don’t be afraid,” Jack encouraged, rising from his knees and placing a light kiss on Ianto’s lips. “I’ll talk you through it if you need help.”

“Jack,” Ianto was wide-eyed.

His eyes locked with Ianto’s, Jack reached out and grabbed one of his hands. He guided it to his crotch where he placed it on his extremely hard dick.  Ianto gripped him and Jack groaned softly as a jolt of pleasure shot through him at his touch.

Slowly, Ianto still pulling and squeezing, Jack backed up a few steps to the small bunk. He lowered himself down to a sitting position forcing Ianto, who was still holding tight to his incredibly hard cock, to his knees. Leaning forward, Jack kissed Ianto long and hard, his tongue going deep while his hand massaged the back of the neck of the younger man. Pulling away, Jack simply grinned at Ianto then leaned back, resting his head against the wall and giving Ianto an open invitation he hoped the young man would accept.

Ianto just stared at him, his hand loose on Jack’s cock, but still holding on to him. Jack smiled encouragingly as he reached out and stroked Ianto’s cheek, running his thumb the length of his jawline. He could see that Ianto was nervous, unsure; but he could also sense that he wanted to try. He prided himself on being able to read his partners and while Jack was a lot of things, he was not one to unnecessarily pressure his lover. He paused at the thought of that word but yes, Ianto was his lover.

Sudden pressure on his hardened dick pushed those thoughts from Jack’s mind immediately as Ianto started working his hand on Jack again. Closing his eyes, Jack let the pleasure take him away, breathing deep as he grew even harder under the touch of Ianto. Whether it was his hand or his mouth, Jack just wanted the Welshman to make him come.

The feel of soft lips on the tip of his cock caused Jack to start as a new charge of pleasure ran through his body. Opening his eyes he saw Ianto; one hand holding him at the base of his cock, the other gently massaging his hip as he lowered his head and once again kissed the tip of Jack’s dick.

Offering a soft groan of approval, Jack nodded when Ianto raised his eyes to him then he closed his eyes once more and let Ianto explore and learn as he wanted. Jack gasped in pleasure suddenly as Ianto not only kissed him, but took the tip of him into his mouth, his tongue circling him and sending another jolt of electrifying pleasure through Jack.

“Yes,” Jack whispered softly, with encouragement, urging Ianto to go further. Jack laid one hand on top of Ianto’s head, tousling his hair with silent encouragement.

Suddenly Jack felt his entire shaft engulfed in the soft, moist, warm environment of Ianto’s mouth. Jack opened his eyes to peer down at Ianto. His hands massaged Ianto’s head as he ran his hands through his hair, slightly pressing his hips upward to greet Ianto’s ministrations.

It’d been about a year since Jack had received oral sex and his nerve endings were starved for the sensations. He felt Ianto run his tongue up the underside of Jack’s cock, before taking him back into his mouth and moving up and down, lightly grazing his teeth while sucking hard.

“Ianto,” Jack felt himself rising fast to climax as Ianto kept moving up and down, running his tongue around the tip while one of his hands remained squeezing tightly at the base of his cock.

Suddenly, Jack exploded with orgasm, one stronger than many he’d experienced in recent years. Ianto, seemingly not ready to swallow his cum, pulled off and helped him finish by stroking him with his hand. Jack convulsed with the orgasm, arching his back and calling out as he ejaculated on himself, Ianto squeezing him tight and milking him dry. After, he lay still for several moments, composing himself as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Ianto,” Jack, when able to speak, peered into the other man’s blue-eyes, “that was great for a first time.”

Jack sat up very quickly and without pause he attacked Ianto with his lips. Long, deep kisses as he gripped the back of his neck and with his other arm, lifted and pulled Ianto on top of him. They adjusted themselves until they were lengthwise on the small bed; legs intertwined and both growing hard once more as they kissed and caressed and explored each other with their hands. Their cocks rubbed against each other adding even more to the heightened sensations and it wasn’t long before the two men were gripping each other’s erections as they stroked in unison while kissing lips, and necks; nibbling ears and nipples; whispering encouragement and other things to each other to heighten the sensations of the touch.

Soon they were coming together as they squeezed and pulled each other, calling out in unison as they reached orgasm at the same time, their cum mixing together as their slick hands worked hard to prolong the climax for each other.

Afterwards, they lay together quietly. Ianto curled up under Jack’s chin, arm draped across his waist while Jack’s arm draped over Ianto’s chest, fingers tracing lazy circles on the younger man’s back.

In that moment, Jack could forget all the life and death drama of the last few days; holding Ianto, Jack felt momentary happiness. He knew it couldn’t last simply because of their line of work. Nothing was certain and happiness had to be grabbed and enjoyed whenever it could.

“I should go home,” Ianto murmured into Jack’s chest, his words breaking the spell and his hot breath tickling as it moved past Jack’s chest hair.

Jack didn’t answer for a moment, he just shifted and pulled Ianto closer to him, not wanting to break contact; not yet.

“Stay,” he replied.

There was silence.

“Okay,” Ianto finally replied.


	9. Restoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right after "Random Shoes".

_Life was good._

A few months ago, those were words that Ianto thought he’d never think or speak again.

Life _was_ good.

It had a lot to do with Jack; but it also had a lot to do with Ianto entering the world of the living again. He was no longer a slave to the dream of a life he had no hopes of having; he was no longer stuck, watching the woman he loved struggle to live, struggle to be human; he was free of that burden and healing from the loss. He had a new lease on life; a new purpose; a new reason to get up each day.

Jack was a big part of Ianto’s new outlook because the more time he spent with Jack, the more he felt healed; whole again.

Even without the new aspect to their relationship Ianto felt Jack was the lynchpin, the key to his reemergence; to his metaphorical rebirth.

With that, Ianto suddenly found more responsibility laid at his feet. He was now a fully integrated part of the Torchwood Three team; more than just the “tea-boy” who delivered morning coffees and lunch, more than the “front man” who worked the desk in the tourism office. He had a voice now and he was heard, at least by Jack. He went to the field with the others, and he was relied upon.

When Jack had first suggested that Ianto take on more duties and start accompanying the team to the field, he’d panicked. He was reminded of the Becon Breacons and what had transpired there. But he bit back the fear and accepted the challenge. He wasn’t going to let Jack down; he didn’t want to let Jack down.

He didn’t want to let himself down.

But Jack.

Ianto felt his emotional attachment to Jack intensifying with every moment they were together. It scared him because they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all, or defined it in any way and Ianto knew Jack was holding back. He wasn’t investing emotionally, or at least he wasn’t investing emotionally on the same level and scale that Ianto was and _that_ was what was most frightening. Not only was he addicted to Jack and his body and what he provided Ianto with physical comfort and pleasure, he was starting to desire more from Jack; he wanted emotional support, too.

He loved the messing about, but he wanted so much more.

Maybe a date to start. A nice dinner, perhaps the cinema and holding hands; then home to bed where they would spend the entire night in each other’s arms.

Yeah. Ianto could really learn to love night's like that.

That would mean people would know, though. As it was, Jack had begun acting more brazen at work; he'd press close against Ianto from behind, letting him know how hard he was; or he'd walk by a little closer than necessary and let his fingers brush and squeeze against Ianto, stirring his perpetual arousal. Many times these moments required Ianto to make a quick escape to the bathroom where he would either have to wait for his excitement to abate, or take care of business in a hurried manner all the while hoping Owen or Jack don’t walk in on him. Most of the time Jack would do these things while one or all of the others were around, and once it happened during a briefing.

Ianto swore Jack enjoyed watching him blush and squirm. It wasn’t as if Ianto didn’t want anyone to know; he really didn’t care what people thought. Rather, there was a safety to be had, with the secretive nature of what they were doing. Ianto felt protected by the secret. And besides, Jack keeping himself slightly at arms length, emotionally, left Ianto with just enough doubts about what they were doing, and how long it might last. If everyone knew, he didn’t trust that the others wouldn't ruin it for him. Or rather, he didn’t trust that Gwen wouldn't ruin it for him. 

He wasn’t blind. He could see the way she looked at Jack, and he noticed how sometimes Jack would look at her the same way. Longingly, and sometimes a bit possessively.

It was infuriating. Gwen had Rhys, she didn’t need Jack too.

He tried to tell himself he didn’t need to worry; he had Jack, at least for the moment. But their relationship had reached a plateau. They had messed about, gotten each other off in just about every way Ianto could imagine possible. There was only one thing they hadn’t done yet and that final step sent bolts of both nervous fear and excitement through the young Welshman.

He was terrified of the intimacy with Jack progressing any further but he knew it would come to it sooner or later. Jack would very soon, if he didn’t already, expect sex.

The thought was slightly paralyzing for Ianto. Not because he didn’t want to be intimate with Jack, because he did. What worried him was that he knew what to expect from a heterosexual encounter, while he had no idea what to expect from a same-sex encounter. He had a little bit of knowledge, thanks to a rather open and free-sharing gay acquaintance he had in college. He knew one partner was the “top”, or the one who did the penetrating, and the other partner was the “bottom”, or the one who was penetrated. But other than that...and it wasn’t necessarily the act itself that scared him, either, although there was some natural fear associated with it, but rather _how_ they got to it. Did Jack expect Ianto to broach the subject? Would Jack one night just start moving in that direction? To Ianto, it was as if he was reliving his heterosexual virgin years all over again.

Ianto needed a plan. So he did all he could think to do.

Research.

**_Meanwhile…_ **

Jack found himself, when the days were slow and there was nothing coming through the rift, thinking about Ianto.

Like a lot.

He thought about their time together, about Ianto’s perfect little mouth and how it felt engulfing him; he thought about the long Welsh vowels that he loved hearing murmured in his ear as the two of them would lay naked in bed together. He thought about Ianto’s slender body and about moving his hands and his lips all over it, memorizing every freckle, every mole, every scar, every hair, finding all the right spots to drive the younger man wild. Some days he had to remain seated behind his desk as he would find himself thinking these thoughts while watching the Ianto move about the Hub. He’d grow hard with arousal. It sometimes took him nearly a half hour to settle his thoughts. He was lucky that so far no emergencies had occurred while he’d been…well…in that state.

He was lucky he could hide behind his desk.

Every day, watching Ianto in one of his many smart suits with nary a hair out of place, Jack had to resist the urge to run madly at him, rip his clothes off, and take him there on the cold, concrete floor of the Hub. Instead he would settle for discretely feeling him up, from the front or from behind. It was almost more sensuous, being secretive about it. Bonus blood-flow would rush to his arousal if someone else were in the room. The pink blush that would rise up Ianto’s slender neck and high, gorgeous, cheekbones never failed to bring a deep ache to Jack’s groin.

It had been a long time since Jack felt so physically attracted to another person. Everything about Ianto made him swell and pulse; made him hot. He could sense that Ianto wanted something more from him. Sometimes he'd try to ask questions and Jack could tell he was fishing for a more personal connection. Jack had opened those flood-gates in the first place by mentioning Mary to him and now...now he pulled back on the talk, unless it was dirty of course, and let his hands do the talking. 

Lately though, Jack desired more. Not more emotional contact, but more physicality. He felt like he just couldn't get close enough to Ianto, no matter how naked they were or how tight they held each other as they would grind and pant and kiss and come all over one another. He wanted to do everything and anything with the gorgeous young man he was lucky to have the attentions of; he just didn't know how to approach the subject. Ianto was just becoming comfortable with the things they were doing and he didn't want to scare the poor kid and Jack was left to wonder, how he would respond if he knew Jack wanted to go further?


	10. Gratuitous Sex...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Out of Time".

**_Christmas Eve, December 24, 1000 hours_ **

At Torchwood, Christmas always passed without much pomp or circumstance and with no days off for the employees. It was never an issue; typically those that worked for Torchwood had no family to spend holidays with, anyway. This year though, Jack announced the morning of Christmas Eve that he was giving everyone three days of paid vacation.

Tosh was openly excited for some time off, and Gwen seemed to be somewhat reluctantly happy though she shot both Jack and Owen pained and confused looks before leaving to be with Rhys for the holiday. Owen, still harboring bitter feelings for the way Diane left him, simply growled with apparent distaste, cursed at Jack, than left in a rage. That left Ianto. Jack avoided the younger man’s inquisitive stare, retreating to his office, closing the door behind him, and leaving Ianto to sit alone in the Hub.

John had taken his own life late into the night of December 23rd and his suicide was affecting Jack more profoundly than he’d ever admit to anyone. The abject desperation and utter loneliness John had expressed to Jack in his last hours on this earth had left Jack reflecting somberly on his own life; his own trials and tribulations of being out of his time, stuck alone and in unfamiliar surroundings.

After years of self-destructive behavior brought on by feelings eerily echoed in John's pain and loss, Jack had been able to adjust to his situation. The difference though, was that even when Jack had wanted out – to die - it hadn’t mattered because Jack couldn’t stay dead.

That fact, which Jack tested over and over and over his first decade living in the 19th century, left him with a choice. He could either accept the situation he found himself in and to live life to the fullest or he could remain bitter and angry and choose to wallow in his confusion, misery, and loneliness, spending his eternity on earth miserable.

It didn’t happen overnight, but eventually he chose the former. It wasn’t long before he discovered there was a lot to live for, a lot to enjoy. Jack took full advantage of experiencing anything and everything he was able to. If only he’d been able to convince Alan that he too could live happily again...

John's struggles, and death, had brought back all the old feelings of despair in Jack and he was having a hard time finding a way out. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he’d done, or all the people he’d loved and lost, or all the lives he’d ruined and bettered ( _there were a few_ , he thought) since that long ago time (yet a time still so far in the future it was unfathomable) when he’d first met the Doctor and his life had been altered forever.

**_Christmas Eve, December 24, 1700 hours_ **

“Jack?”

Light rapping and the subsequent creaking of door hinges startled Jack.

“Ianto? What are you still doing here? Have you been here all day?” Jack remained seated at his desk, raising his eyebrows questioningly at the young Welshman standing in his doorway.

“Yeah, well I had some work to finish,” Ianto shuffled in the doorway.

“Go home. Spend the holiday with your family,” Jack grabbed a stack of papers from the corner of his desk and tapped them against the scarred and blemished surface, squaring the corners to form a neat pile. He had no idea what the pages were and he tried not to think that the report for Alan’s death was probably in there somewhere, waiting for Jack to sign.

“No,” Ianto swallowed back laughter and looked at Jack pointedly, “no plans.”

His sister had invited him for Christmas dinner but Ianto wasn’t in the mood. He couldn’t bear to sit and listen to his brother-in-law blather on about his latest conspiracy theory, or to deal with his niece and nephew who seemed to only like him for the money he gave them when he visited, and he really wasn’t in the mood to listen as his sister tried to convince him to go on a blind date with another of her rather uninteresting, and rather unattractive, friends.

Jack just nodded and offered a sad smile. He could tell by the way Ianto was looking at him that he didn’t want to go home alone, but Jack couldn’t go with him either.

“Well I’m afraid I’m not good company,” Jack added, probably more forcefully than necessary. He tried to ignore the momentary look of disappointment that crossed Ianto’s features.

“Oh,” Ianto replied, feeling completely deflated. All he needed, all he wanted, was to spend the night with Jack. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it; to ask for it. Unable to make his legs move to leave he just stood in place, feeling his neck and cheeks blush as the familiar feel of creeping heat rose up from his collar.

“What is it?” Jack, his tone gentler, asked as he stood from behind the desk. He’d already shed his braces from his shoulders, and untucked and unbuttoned his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“You’re staying here for Christmas, then?” Ianto blurted his clear, blue eyes unnaturally wide and his face pale, having drained the recent blush. Jack would have laughed at his expression if he hadn’t recognized the underlying fearful tone in his voice.

“Well it is where I live. And I really have nowhere to go,” Jack said slowly and carefully. He’d spent the last nearly two hundred Christmases alone and he was fine with it. He had no attachment to the holiday, Christmas and the 21st century meaning behind it both were thousands of years gone by the time Jack was even born. He’d tried to indulge in Christmas-cheer when he first found himself stuck in the late 1800’s, but he didn’t subscribe to any 21st century (or any century) religion and the whole idea of Santa Clause was just creepy to him. Really, though, he just knew too much about what was out there to be able to enjoy all the cookies and cakes and presents and good-cheer.

Ianto remained silent. He’d been rehearsing this moment all day and things were not going according to the script he’d outlined in his head. Taking a deep breath, he offered a tight-lipped smile while he tried to figure out what to do next.

Moving from behind his desk, Jack crossed his office in three long strides, coming to a stop nearly nose to nose with Ianto. Jack’s thumb pressed gently into the tiny dimple of Ianto’s chin as he held the other man’s face up so they were eye to eye.

“Ianto?”

“Youcouldcomehomewithme,” Ianto said, his words blending together into one long stream. He took a deep, jagged breath before speaking again.

“I’m not going to my sister’s. It’s a hassle and...well…I’ll be by myself, and if you don’t want to sit here alone…I mean… you can come over if you want to. It won’t be anything special, really…but, you know…then you won’t be alone…”

Ianto shrugged, letting his voice trail off as he fought mortified embarrassment. What he’d just spewed nonsensically had sounded nothing like the well-rehearsed, mature, polite invitation he’d been working on all day and he cringed at the pathetic, needy tone he’d had.

Jack grinned and gave his answer with a kiss that left both men a little weak in the knees. Apparently Ianto needn’t have worried.

**_Christmas Eve, December 24, 1900 hours_ **

Ianto prepared a simple meal and for the first time since they’d started – well, whatever it was they’d started - the two men had a real sit-down dinner together.

Jack asked a few questions about Ianto’s sister; he hadn’t even known there was a sister.  Ianto was indulgent of his questions but Jack could tell he didn’t really want to talk about his family. Jack could understand that.

Changing topics, they talked about Emma, both expressing hopefulness of her finding happiness and success in London. They also talked a bit about Diane and Owen, Ianto feeling a bit empathetic for Owen’s loss while Jack was mysteriously more unsympathetic. Ianto tried to ask about John but Jack became quiet and withdrawn when his name was mentioned.

After dinner, they ended up on the sofa, the television tuned to a holiday-themed variety show featuring dancing dogs, a choir of children dressed as elves, and cats that walked on high-wires, but they weren’t paying it any attention. They were paying attention to each other.

Jack was stripped down to his white undershirt and trousers and had Ianto’s shirt wide open, his mouth kissing and nibbling on the younger man’s chest. Hands threaded in Jack’s hair, Ianto held him close while he writhed beneath him. His trousers were growing uncomfortably tight, and he could feel Jack’s hardness pressing against his thigh.

Releasing Jack, Ianto pulled back and roughly shed his shirt, throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. He caught a glimpse of Jack doing the same thing across from him. Without a word, Ianto stood from the sofa and with eyes glued to Jack, he quickly dropped his trousers and boxers, taking a moment to pull off his socks as well. He stood before Jack, naked and exposed, the light breeze from the overhead fan tingling all the nerve endings in his swollen cock.

Jack held his gaze the whole time, forcing his eyes to remain on Ianto’s face even as the younger man stripped all his clothes off in front of him. In his peripheral vision he could see Ianto in all his glory, his gorgeous cock standing stiff at attention, begging to be touched and caressed. Jack felt a desperate stirring in his groin, his own cock seeming to vibrate with anticipation.

The men kept their eyes locked while Jack slowly stood and moved so close that the tip of Ianto’s penis pressed against the hardened length of Jack’s cock, still restrained by his trousers. The younger man let out a low, breathy moan and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head from the sharp bolts of pleasure that shot through his body.

Jack leaned forward and put his mouth on Ianto’s, his tongue slipping into the other man’s mouth as he dropped his own trousers and boxers, letting his erection fly free. He elicited a slight moan when it rubbed against Ianto. Pants off and haphazardly thrown on the floor Jack moved even closer, positioning his left leg between Ianto’s legs and grinding his cock against the other man’s hip. Ianto released his hold on Jack’s head and neck and moved his hands down to Jack’s ass, grabbing and pulling him tighter to him as he pressed his groin into Jack’s hip.

Pulling his mouth back and panting for breath, Jack moved his hands down to grasp Ianto’s ass as they both pressed against each other, panting and kissing, hands gripping tight, massaging. Jack let his hands wander inwards and he gently spread Ianto’s butt cheeks, his fingers tenderly probing around the sensitive skin of his opening.

Ianto gasped and laid his head in the crook of Jack’s neck, nibbling as he cautiously mimicked the touch, carefully moving his hands into position, listening to Jack’s whispered encouragement in his ear, letting his fingers explore, feeling the tight flesh of Jack’s ass.

“Yes,” Jack groaned loudly, his hands gripping tighter to Ianto as he growled into his ear. “I love your hands on me.”

“Jack,” Ianto whispered, his heart pounding from with nervous anticipation. He ached so badly, not just in his groin but in his whole body. All the fear and trepidation he’d been feeling before suddenly was gone, replaced with the simple yearning to be with this other man. It was more than a want, or a desire. It had become a need, something immediately necessary to Ianto’s survival, and that thought was a little bit scary.

“Bedroom,” Ianto breathed in Jack’s ear, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Pulling back slightly so he could look the other man in the face, Jack searched his expression trying to read into what that one word meant.

“Bedroom,” Ianto repeated, a bit more controlled this time. His eyes were clear and wide, and not with fear or apprehension, that much was clear to Jack. It was something else, something more primal, the basic need for intimacy.

“You sure?” Jack questioned, even as his fingers kneaded the dense muscles of Ianto’s cute little ass. He felt the Welshman falter on his feet as he pressed his mouth against Jack’s.

“Oh yeah,” Ianto panted, his lips on Jack’s and his breath hot and wet.

Pulling away, Ianto smiled teasingly before grabbing Jack’s hand in his. Jack flashed a grin and started to follow when a loud beep caused Jack to pause.

“Shit.”

“What?” Ianto’s asked. Jack looked pissed.

Jack sighed heavily as he punched his fist angrily into the air.

“It’s the fucking rift,” he grumbled as he pulled away and turned to the pile of his clothes where he dug into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out his PDA. A tiny blue light was flashing on the screen keeping time to the beeps.

“Fuck,” he groused, louder and with more ferocity.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got to go take care of this,” Jack said, keeping his back to Ianto as he crouched down and gathered his clothes, pulling on his boxers and pants before sitting on the sofa to pull on his socks.

Ianto stood before Jack unashamedly naked and still aroused, his face screwed up with confusion. His body was splotched, harsh red streaks running across his chest where Jack had been kissing him, and biting him, and touching him.

“Do you need my help, sir?” Ianto’s asked, the juxtaposition of his suddenly professional tone and demeanor with his still very obvious arousal was ridiculous and Jack suppressed a smile.

“No,” Jack stood and slipped his white tee over his head, then pulled on his blue button-down, not bothering to close the buttons or tuck it in.

“It’s probably just weevils. I’ll call you if it’s something more serious,” Jack shrugged on his coat and stared for a long moment at Ianto, trying to mask his frustration. With one last sigh, Jack nodded and left, the tails of his great coat flowing behind him as he disappeared out the door.

Alone, Ianto sighed and looked down at his erection wearily. He really wasn’t in the mood now and he hoped it would fall on its own before he was forced to jack-off to release the now painfully uncomfortable pressure.

**_Christmas Day, December 25, 0500 hours_ **

Ianto shuffled the bag of pastries and the two coffees in one hand as he unlocked the door to the tourism office. Slamming it shut behind him, Ianto locked the door and eyed the room. A fine layer of dust coated everything. It’d been months, yet no one had seemed to notice or care that the office had closed one day never to reopen. Ianto didn’t mind not having to sit up here and pretend to be interested in tourists travel plans.

Ianto set the coffees down on the counter, sending loose particles of dust flying in the stale air. He gripped tighter to the heavy bag of pastries and when he was certain he wasn’t going to drop anything, Ianto descended into the Hub.

The main area of the Hub was dark, save a wide rectangle of light coming from the autopsy bay. Ianto set the coffees and pastries on Tosh’s station and tossed his wool overcoat in a heap on the tattered couch before moving to stand at the rail overlooking the bay. Below, on the table, was a weevil; it was barely recognizable, a bloody mass bruised and swollen and ripped open, entrails oozing various colored fluids onto the floor.  

“Jack?” Ianto called as he turned from the rail overcome with a sudden, unexpected concern.

That was when he noticed the button-down shirt in a crumpled pile on the floor. It was soaked in so much blood that if Ianto hadn’t seen it on Jack the night before he wouldn’t have known it was originally blue in color.

“Jack!” Ianto called, trying to control the pit of dread that was growing inside his gut. He knelt down and poked at the shirt, taking note of the long tears indicative of the razor sharp teeth of the weevils.

The worry he felt was unsettling, but also weirdly comforting. He didn’t allow himself to question why he was so concerned for Jack. It was normal, he thought. Jack was a friend and co-worker, of course he’d be concerned.

Jack was important to Torchwood…but Ianto knew it was a hell of a lot more than that. He wasn’t sure he would feel so concerned if it were Owen or Gwen he was searching for.

His heart-rate quickened as he moved about the Hub looking for Jack’s bleeding, unconscious body. Nowhere in the immediately vicinity of the autopsy bay, Ianto moved quickly to Jack’s office where he noticed a trail of blood. Following it, Ianto descended the ladder to the living quarters below.

Ianto took in the scene. More blood was splattered on the concrete floor leaving a larger, messier trail from the base of the ladder across the room to what remainded of Jack’s clothes and boots, which were in a bloody pile near the door to the bathroom.

That was when Ianto finally registered the sound of running water from the bathroom; the shower.

“Jack,” Ianto exhaled with relief. He crossed to the small bathroom and with one swift motion swept aside the shower curtain.

“What the?” Jack jumped, startled.

“Ianto! What are you doing here so early?” Jack greeted Ianto with his trademark grin, "Want to join me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Jack reached out and grabbed Ianto’s suit jacket lapels, pulling him under the steaming, stream of water.

“No,” Ianto sighed with exasperation as the hot water descended on him, drenching him in seconds, and filling up his shoes.

“These were brand new shoes,” Ianto grumbled.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Jack grinned as he removed Ianto’s tie and worked the buttons on his shirt, pulling it and his suit jacket off and tossing them in a wet, splattering heap just outside the shower.

Hands moving down to tug and loosen Ianto’s belt, Jack placed his lips into the crook of Ianto’s neck, grazing his teeth against Ianto’s freshly shaven skin.

“Mmmm, you smell good,” Jack groaned. He released Ianto’s soaked trousers and boxers and they slid off his hips and fell with a heavy thud to the floor of the shower.

Ianto felt his resistance waning with the sensations of Jack lips and hands on his body. Stepping back, he used one still-socked foot to kick his pants out of the shower. That was when his eyes registered Jack’s condition.

His entire torso was a weaving mess of raised, red, angry looking welts. If Ianto didn’t know any better he’d say someone had whipped him across the chest. But he did know better, and it looked like Jack had been healed of weevil wounds. Wordlessly, Ianto grabbed Jack’s shoulders and forced him around, looking at his back where more angry, red welts crisscrossed his skin.

“Oh, hey,” Jack laughed, “I didn’t realize you liked to play so rough.”

“Cut it out Jack,” Ianto breathed, feeling like yelling but unable to raise his voice over a whisper.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ianto roughly manhandled Jack back around, so they were face to face once more.

The water from the shower ran heavy down both of them, plastering their hair to their scalps. Ianto reached behind Jack and turned it off.

“I’m fine,” Jack said coolly, his mood shifting dramatically. His protective wall up, the mask Ianto knew so well was set firmly in place.

“Last night you didn’t have these. Was all the blood upstairs from you?” Ianto dropped his hands to his sides as he pressed himself against the back wall of the shower, the cool shower tiles leeching all the warmth from his skin.

Jack simply offered a tight-lipped smile before shrugging noncommittally.

“As you can see, I’m fine,” he added with his arms stretched out at his sides. Stepping out of the shower, Jack walked to his bunk, sans towel. His skin glistened with water droplets that fell to the concrete floor where they mixed with the partially dry blood turning the dark, velvety red a lighter shade of near pink.

Ianto stood alone in the shower for a moment before following Jack out, pausing at the door of the bathroom to peel off his soaking wet socks.

“Jack,” he started.

“Ianto,” Jack countered with irritation, turning. They stared at each other across the small space.

“I have some ointment that heals wounds,” Jack shrugged again before turning to his portable closet and pulling out some clean clothes.

“In less than 12-hours?” Ianto stared at Jack with incredulity, “Seriously?”

Jack shrugged again, avoiding Ianto’s piercing stare.

“And after you lectured everyone else for borrowing from Torchwood, you use alien tech to heal yourself?” Ianto shook his head, feeling like he suddenly didn’t know the man before him at all.

Jack didn’t offer any explanation, or try to defend himself as he pulled on a clean pair of boxer shorts. He couldn’t tell Ianto that there was no magic alien ointment that had healed him, but rather his own body rapidly repairing the fatal wounds the pack of weevils had inflicted. So he let the Welshman think what he wanted; one weevil, and magic, alien ointment.

“What happened last night?” Ianto lowered himself on the edge of the bunk, still naked, but Jack couldn’t even enjoy the sight. He was no longer in the mood.

“Weevil got away from me,” Jack sat down next to Ianto. They were so close the hair on his arm caught and tugged at the hair on Ianto’s arm, yet it felt as if they were worlds apart.

 “Should’ve let me come with you,” Ianto replied, a hint of chastising in his tone.

Jack nodded but didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t be another lie, and that made him feel disgusting inside. The fact was that Jack wanted to tell Ianto the truth, someday. Just not yet; not today.

“I brought breakfast,” Ianto said finally, when it was clear Jack wasn’t going to tell him anything more about what happened. Even though he was still buck-naked, he moved to climb the ladder, “it’s up in the Hub.”

“Ianto,” Jack rose quickly, grasping Ianto’s arm as he reached for the ladder. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say to make things okay.

The two men stared, the blue eyes of each searching the face of the other. Jack, looking for some measure of understanding and Ianto, for some recognition of the man he thought Jack was.

“Here, at least put these on,” Jack moved to his closet and pulled out another pair of boxers. Ianto took them with a nod.

“Breakfast?” Ianto asked, his tone cautious and guarded. Jack sighed inwardly before nodding and following him up the ladder.

**_Christmas Day, December 25, 0700 hours_ **

“I should clean that up,” Ianto broke the awkward silence that had descended, his eyes fixed on the bloody mess of Jack’s shirt, still in a heap on the floor.

They’d eaten pastries and drank coffee in silence while seated side by side on the tattered sofa outside the autopsy bay, neither man wearing anything but boxer shorts. Ianto spent that time stewing over what he’d walked in on, struggling to figure out why Jack’s evasiveness bothered him. It was more than simply him seemingly not practicing what he preached with regards to using Torchwood technology...there was something more secretive hiding behind Jack’s glossy façade. The more time Ianto spent with Jack the more he recognized when he was purposefully lying, and not knowing what it was he was hiding made Ianto uneasy. He wanted Jack to trust him enough to talk to him, he just didn’t know what he had to do to gain his complete confidence. They’d never really talked about what it was they were doing; if it was all physical, or if emotions were at play. Ianto knew he was emotionally invested and he wanted Jack to be a part of his life, and to know him, but Jack kept his emotions on tight lockdown, close to the vest. Did he want to know Ianto the way Ianto wanted him too? Did he care? Sometimes Ianto was certain Jack had real feelings for him and did care; and other times, like this morning, he felt like he was just the latest plaything to have Jack’s attention. He just wanted to know where he stood, so he knew how invested he should let himself become.

“Leave it,” Jack shifted, turning sideways and reaching an arm across the back of the couch and around Ianto’s shoulders, tentatively laying his hand on the other man’s far shoulder and lightly tracing his fingers in slow circles.

“It’ll be harder to clean if it dries,” Ianto’s eyes remained fixated on the shirt. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jack, out hunting weevils alone. What if he hadn’t been able to get back to the Hub in time to apply his magic ointment; what if he bled to death out there, alone?

Jack reached his other hand out and gently gripped Ianto’s chin, turning his face until the two were eye to eye.

“Leave it,” Jack whispered as he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Ianto’s lips.

“Please don’t die,” Ianto whispered, his mouth pressed against Jack’s, his words piercing through Jack with a force he didn’t expect.

Shifting on the couch, Ianto reached around the older man’s muscular body, pulling him closer and opening his mouth against the pressure of Jack’s tongue.

His hands moved over Jack’s shoulders to his back where he felt the slightly raised skin of the healing welts. His fingers gently traced the lines of the welts, his mind half curious about the ointment Jack used, and half distracted by the wandering hands of said man which were now grabbing at his ass, trying to pull Ianto onto his lap.

“Jack, wait,” Ianto reluctantly pulled away.

Jack sighed, one hand resting on Ianto’s knee while the other raked through his still damp hair as he threw his head back in frustration.

“I was kind of hoping…,” Jack trailed off as he raised his eyebrows suggestively, “you know, to pick up where we left off last night?”

“Yeah, but Jack-,” Ianto squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable.

“What?”

Ianto felt his face warm as he glanced at Jack quickly, “It occurred to me, last night, after you left, that we’ve never really talked. I mean, we talk, but we haven’t _talked.”_

“Talked…?”Jack said, confused.

Laying his hand on top of Jack’s, Ianto steeled himself. He really didn’t want to spell it out, but in this day and age, a person had to be careful…

“Protection,” Ianto blurted out.

“Oh,” Jack grinned and pulled Ianto’s hand to his mouth where he kissed the back of it, eyes on the Welshman the entire time.

Jack, a product of tens of thousands of years of human evolution and medical advancements, was immune to transmitting or harboring any diseases from the 21st century, sexual or otherwise. Part of it likely was to do with his ability to rapidly heal and reanimate, but even before he became the mysterious miracle of the man he was now, he’d never spent a single moment worried or even thinking about STD’s. In fact, that wasn’t even a “thing” in the 51st century. The words and definition had long since lost any meaning to humanity by then.

But of course, Jack couldn’t explain any of this to Ianto…

“I don’t know if you’re concerned about something specific, but can you trust me when I say it’s not an issue? At all.”

Ianto looked at Jack, plainly seeing the earnestness in his expression. He may have secrets but at that moment, Ianto completely trusted him.

“Yes,” he said softly, nodding.

Trademark grin flashing once more, Jack leaned forward and drew Ianto into another kiss, hands exploring. This time Ianto didn’t fight it when Jack leaned against the back of the couch and pulled him onto his lap so he was straddling him.

Ianto could feel Jack, his erection pressing through the soft, thin material of his cotton boxers, rock hard against Ianto’s swelling cock.

Hands inside the rear of Ianto’s borrowed boxer shorts, Jack slid his fingers near Ianto’s opening, savoring the breathless panting in his ear.

_Beepbeepbeepbeep…Beepbeepbeepbeep…Beepbeepbeepbeep…Beepbeepbeepbeep…_

“Fuck, now what!” Ianto exclaimed, sitting upright and roaring with frustration as the alarm sounded over and over.

“Bloody rift,” Jack let his head fall back against the couch as Ianto climbed off him and brought up the rift monitoring system on Tosh’s computer.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Ianto murmured, jumping slightly as Jack came up close behind him, pressing his erection into the curve of Ianto’s ass while his hands disappeared down the front of Ianto’s boxers, taking his cock and squeezing it hard.

“Jack,” Ianto gasped as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.

“I know, we don’t have time,” Jack pulled his hands away, leaving Ianto with a pulsing ache in his groin that he was certain he’d have to relieve before he could go anywhere.

“What’s happening,” Jack, suddenly all business, moved to stand beside Ianto and they both stared at the screen.

“Not sure,” Ianto’s slender fingers moved across the keyboard and another screen appeared, “seems to be some rift activity near the stadium.”

“Alright,” Jack clapped his hands, “let’s go!”

“My clothes are all drenched,” Ianto leveled his gaze at Jack.

“You can wear something of mine, then,” Jack eyeballed Ianto up and down, then licked his lips and winked.

**_Boxing Day, December 26, 0600 hours_ **

“Shower, then sleep,” Jack guided Ianto by the shoulders through the rolling cog door of the Hub. They’d been out for over 24-hours chasing a humanoid blowfish (something new for Jack) and the damn thing had eluded them, but not before leading them on a chase throughout all of Cardiff. They went over water, land, road, and even through the landfill…it was a good thing that it was a holiday and the streets were mostly empty, the city’s population for the most part at home with their families. The last thing Jack wanted to do was keep track of all the civilians he’d have to retcon after a 24-hour plus chase of a walking, talking blowfish through the city.

Jack wrinkled his nose as he poked Ianto in the shoulder, “You should go first. I’m pretty sure you landed in some rotten fish.”

While Ianto showered, Jack disposed of all their clothes, including the blood-soaked things he was wearing the previous day (which were now dried up and stuck to the floor). He also hung Ianto’s suit. It had dried out while they had been gone, but was now incredibly wrinkled.

While Jack showered, Ianto cleared their breakfast food and coffee, and put the now desiccated carcass of the dead weevil into cold storage. There was nothing to be gained from it at this point, it had sat out and open too long. Ianto was just glad they hadn’t let Mwyfanwy out, she might have eaten it.

Clean and exhausted, the two men wordlessly curled up under the covers of Jack’s narrow bunk, and within minutes were asleep. Naked, arms and legs wrapped around each other. Content.

**_Boxing Day, December 26, 1600 hours_ **

Ianto stirred awake first, his recent sexual frustrations had been playing out in his dreams and he woke from visions of he and Jack together. The dreams had been quite pleasant in nature, as indicated by his stiff arousal.

Looking at the still sleeping Jack, Ianto smiled softly. After two failed attempts at this, he was determined that they were going to do it this time. He was desperate for it, beyond ready. It was now or never.

Jack was facing him and breathing softly. Raking his fingertips down the length of his body, Ianto buried his face in the crook of the other man’s neck while he softly whispered his favorite poem and kissed Jack’s skin. His hand came to a rest on Jack’s hip and Ianto squeezed before he moved his hand to Jack’s dick, tenderly cradling and fingering his balls before ever so gently wrapping his hand around the shaft of his cock and stroking it.

“What?” Jack, his voice thick with sleep, woke and looked up at Ianto. He may have been half asleep still, but his cock was fully awake and responding to Ianto’s touch, growing thicker and harder as the blood flow increased.

Reaching out, Jack’s hand stroked Ianto’s hair as the Welshman left a hot trail of kisses along his jaw line from his ear to his mouth, ending with a gentle kiss on the lips.

Jack rolled to his back and Ianto released his hold on him, climbing on top and hovering over him, straddling his hips. He perched over Jack on his hands and knees, lowering his mouth to his chest and neck. The welts that had stood out angry and red just yesterday were now nothing but faint white lines. Ianto barely noticed them as he kissed, and nibbled, and bit at Jack’s nipples.

The Welshman’s dick was already rock hard and Jack eyed it longingly as it dangled above his navel, grazing Jack’s growing erection.  Placing his hands on Ianto’s narrow hips, Jack kneaded his flesh as the two men kissed.

“Iant-,” Jack started, but Ianto shook his head and pressed his finger to Jack’s lips, silencing him. Jack grinned and mimed zipping his mouth closed, aroused by this new, take control side to Ianto. He was beginning to guess Ianto’s intentions and Jack was ecstatic, more than happy to get fucked by Ianto’s gorgeous cock.

Ianto started moving his mouth down the length of Jack’s body, tenderly kissing nearly every centimeter of him. As he neared Jack’s swollen dick, Ianto moved his hands to massage the strong muscles in Jack’s hips before his hands slid around to grasp his tight ass. Jack’s breathing began to quicken as he watched Ianto crouch between Jack’s legs, spreading them wide. One hand gripped Jack’s cock at the base as his lips kissed their way up Jack’s inner thighs, the touch maddening as Ianto’s hand gently squeezed. Then Ianto was running his tongue up the underside of Jack’s cock, licking it like an ice cream cone before taking it wholly in his mouth. Jack moaned in pleasure and whispered encouragement.

Ianto, one hand still massaging Jack’s butt, moved it forward to stroke the sensitive skin of Jack’s perineum while Ianto’s mouth and tongue worked on his cock.

“Fuck,” Jack whispered with a sharp intake of breath and Ianto, still working his mouth on Jack’s dick, grinned, his teeth grazing Jack’s shaft as he sucked in cool air through his mouth, encouraged by the shallow breaths of the man beneath him.

With fingers stroking and fondling Jack’s ball sack and area between his legs, Ianto slowly started to move his hand back towards Jack’s opening. Ianto glanced up at his subject and was pleased to see him with his eyes closed, head back, and mouth open as he panted and whispered affirmations.

Lost in the pleasing sensations Jack spread his legs even wider, tilting his hips upwards slightly, giving Ianto full permission to continue.

Gently, Ianto probed his finger into Jack, eliciting another gasp.

“Wait,” Jack reached over his head and pulled open the tiny drawer of the small table at the head of the bed. He handed Ianto a small tube of lube, shrugging.

“It’s leftover from awhile ago, but certainly still good.”

Ianto opened the tube and squirted a good amount onto his first two fingers before moving them back down to Jack’s bottom. It was infinitely easier to work first one finger, then another, into Jack with the use of lube and from the sounds Jack was making there was no doubt he was enjoying it. Ianto slowly worked his fingers in and out of Jack while he continued to suck and lick his dick.

“Damn Ianto, just fucking do it,” Jack grunted, as he pulled a pillow from under his head and placed it under his hips, elevating them so Ianto had better access.

“You sure?” Ianto slowly moved his fingers in and out of Jack’s ass, stretching him.

“Fuck yes,” Jack groaned, “don’t worry.”

Ianto needed no further encouragement. He grabbed his erection, squirting a generous amount of lube onto it and stroking to spread it around. The lubricant was warm, increasing his sensitivity and Ianto nearly came right there in his palm. It was only the thought of being inside him, of fucking Jack, that kept him in check and he hoped he could hold out long enough to enjoy the sex. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by coming less than a minute after starting.

Positioning himself between Jack’s legs, Ianto raised his head to look at him, suddenly nervous again, even though he wanted this probably more than Jack did.

Winking and smiling encouragingly, Jack ached for Ianto inside him, certain there was no way the young Welshman could want this more than Jack did. Pulling his knees up towards his shoulders, Jack gave Ianto a clear shot.

Lowering his body, Ianto positioned the tip of his dick at Jack’s opening and slowly pushed. Jack moaned loudly as Ianto slid easily into his tight space. Both men felt the sensations everywhere in their bodies. Eyes moving between Jack’s face and what he was doing, Ianto kept pushing ever so slowly, feeling Jack stretch and envelope him as he disappeared further in.

Ianto fought to focus all his energy not to come before he was even in all the way. Jack’s ass was so tight around him, the friction from his slow entry sending lightning bolts of pleasure through his whole body. Breathing deeply in an attempt to maintain control, he pushed further, until he felt his balls press against Jack’s ass. He exhaled sharply, while Jack gave a loud pleasing groan.

“Fuck yeah,” Jack growled, thrusting his hips upwards while tightening his muscles around Ianto’s cock.

“Oh God,” Ianto moaned as every muscle in his body spasmed with a searing jolt of pleasure. He felt his cock pulse with the threat of orgasm.

“Slow,” he panted, desperate. Clenching fistfuls of sheet on either side of Jack Ianto lowered his head to kiss him, letting his body get accustomed to the new sensations.

Rising back to his knees, Ianto slowly pulled his hips back and with every ounce of self control he possessed, he pressed forward again, a little harder and faster than the first time.

Jack inhaled sharply at the friction of Ianto’s cock. Grabbing his throbbing cock, Jack slowly started to pull and squeeze in time to Ianto’s slow, deliberate thrusts. Ianto felt so good inside him, his cock was thick and full and taking up every possible space; the sensations were deep and intense.

Slowly thrusting his hips, Ianto let his climax build. His breathing labored as he kept control, wanting to be sure Jack was getting enough satisfaction as well.

“Damn, Ianto, just do it,” Jack gasped, waves of pleasure coursing through him as he pulled harder and faster on his dick.

Ianto needed no further encouragement, his resolve to hold out any longer quickly fading the longer he stayed inside Jack. He started moving faster, his hips working almost independent of his brain as he felt his cock grow larger inside Jack, nearing release. Leaning forward Ianto stretched his legs out behind him, thrusting faster and trying to penetrated deeper as the pleasure continued to build; he could feel his orgasm approaching fast like a freight train.

“Don’t you dare pull out,” Jack gasped, his hand working on his dick as Ianto sat up and pounded even harder and faster, hands holding tight to Jack’s hips.

Ianto groaned with a throaty breath, his hips moving so hard and fast he felt certain the cot would break beneath them. It creaked and moaned loadly with their rough movements.

Ianto rammed harder and faster as his muscles spasmed uncontrollably and waves of pleasure more intense than anything he could recall began to crest through him; his vision momentarily went black, white starbursts flashing in his periphery as he tried to gasp for air.

Thrusting again Ianto cried out and threw his head back as he came so hard his entire body shuddered uncontrollably. He felt himself empty into Jack as he kept thrusting, wishing that he could go even harder and even deeper, so desperate to prolong his orgasm. His breath came in shaking gasps as he continued to move inside Jack, savoring every last sensation it afforded him, riding the wave of his climax to the very end.

“Don’t stop,” Jack moaned as he stroked his cock harder and faster and then he was coming, groaning, his hips rocking as he climaxed and spent himself all over his chest. Ianto placed his hand around Jack’s hand, increasing the pressure and milking Jack until his body stopped trembling.

As Jack finished, Ianto slowly pulled out, giving himself a few strokes and squeezes before sitting back on his knees and looking up the length of Jack’s sweaty, muscular, and glistening body. It was a bit surreal, what had just happened, yet Ianto felt a kind of happiness that he had been certain was forever out of reach when he’d lost Lisa.

He pushed aside thoughts that once again tried to define his feelings for Jack and instead let his eyes take in the naked, spent body of the man before him who was catching his breath and watching Ianto with an unreadable expression on his face.

Jack watched Ianto curiously. He would be the first to admit that things had not happened as he’d ever thought they would. He’d been surprised by Ianto, by both his friendship as well as this new factor to their relationship; but mostly he was surprised by the fact that he was actually developing feelings for Ianto, outside of his simple desire for sex.

Shunning thoughts of feelings and emotions, Jack straightened his legs and grinned down at Ianto before climbing off the bunk and retreating to the bathroom. Ianto heard the shower run for just a few minutes than Jack was back, body glistening wet not with sweat but with water droplets. Ianto felt a stirring in his groin as he watched the older man approach the bed, muscles taut, his expression relaxed and smiling.

“You should go rinse off,” Jack winked as he dropped back onto the bunk, sitting on his leg. Ianto nodded and rose, feeling the muscles in his legs and his ass tighten and threaten to seize with the movement. Running the hot water, Ianto quickly soaped and rinsed his body, taking a few seconds to massage and loosen the muscles in his thighs and ass before returning to bed naked and wet with water droplets, as Jack had been.

“You,” Jack stared up at Ianto, grinning, before pulling him down to the bed and into a kiss. Reclining, they laid side by side; shoulders, hips, and thighs all touching as they both stared up at the ceiling of Jack’s quarters. For Ianto, a whole new world of intimacy had been opened up and he was anxious to continue exploring it. For Jack, it was a closeness he’d desperately needed after the recent loss. He felt regenerated.

Groping for Ianto’s hand, Jack clasped it tight. They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts.

“Jack?” Ianto’s voice was quiet.

“Hmmm,” Jack murmured, his thumb absently stroking the back of Ianto’s hand.

“Was that,” Ianto paused, “I mean, was everything, uh, okay?”

Jack smiled up at the ceiling.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. From the corner of his eye he saw Ianto glance at him.

“You were fucking amazing,” Jack added, rolling to his side and draping his leg over Ianto, pressing his groin into the Welshman’s hip.

“Bloody brilliant,” Jack bit at Ianto’s earlobe.

“I could go for round two, if you’re game,” Jack released Ianto’s hand and traced his fingers lightly down his chest, resting them at Ianto’s navel, just barely grazing the shaft of his cock.

“I think I may need a few more minutes to recover,” Ianto whispered, inhaling sharply as Jack grabbed him.

“If you say so,” he bit again at Ianto’s ear, moving down his neck before he released him, trailing his fingers back up to Ianto’s chest, where he traced the outline of his pectorals with a single finger, flicking his erect nipples.

Ianto closed his eyes to the sensations and soon was fast asleep. Jack watched him for awhile; his chest moving up and down with each breath, his lips puckered, his face looking so young and innocent; then he too lay back and allowed himself to fall into a dreamless sleep. 

**_Boxing Day, December 26, 2000 hours_ **

“I noticed you and Alan seemed to get pretty close,” Ianto said. There was a noticeable pause in Jack’s movements, his chopsticks hovering in mid-air over the container of Vegetable Lo Mein he was eating.

The two men had slept for a few hours before loud, rumbling stomachs woke them both. Neither wanted to leave the Hub, so Ianto placed an order for Chinese and the two made a picnic of it, eating their food on Jack’s bed, still in the buff.

“We related to each other,” Jack replied finally, slightly guarded, shoveling the noodles into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully, avoiding Ianto’s gaze.

“Yes, but how?” Ianto asked. Jack heard nothing but innocent curiousity in the younger man’s voice and he relaxed a little, dumping the last of the fried rice into the Lo Mein container.

“Both of us were stuck in places we didn’t quite belong,” Jack replied vaguely, hoping it was enough to satiate Ianto’s questions, and taking a bite of rice and vegetables.

Ianto was silent as he processed Jack’s non-answer. There was some hidden meaning in there that Ianto wasn’t privy too. Taking a bite of the Sweet and Sour Chicken he was holding, he allowed his eyes to travel over Jack’s body, taking in the smooth skin, the lack of blemishes or scars, his pronounced musculature.

“You’re all healed,” Ianto nodded at Jack.

Looking down at his bare chest, Jack couldn’t see a single trace of the wounds that just 36-hours ago he’d sustained; wounds that would have killed anyone else.

“Magic ointment,” Jack smiled, but Ianto could see it wasn’t entirely honest.  He was growing more certain each passing day that there was much, much more to Captain Jack Harkness than his dizzying hypersexuality and a penchant for hunting weevils.

He was enigmatic, and there was something about him that wasn’t of _now_. Ianto was determined to figure out what it was that made Jack so different from every other person he’d ever met.

“Jack?” he started again, staring down at his food as he jabbed his chopsticks at the hunks of orange-colored, breaded chicken.

“Yes, Ianto,” Jack replied softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Why do you wear that coat?” Ianto asked and Jack gave a little chuckle.

“Why do I wear a World War Two-era Royal Air Force great coat?” he replied, biting into an eggroll, the Vegetable Lo Mein, and Fried Rice both gone.

“Yeah,” Ianto looked at Jack, eating another piece of chicken, “I mean your style is quiet vintage.”

Jack laughed again, this time without any trepidation. Setting aside the half-eaten eggroll he leaned across the bed to kiss Ianto, his advances met hungrily.

Ianto, quiet aware that Jack was evading his question, dropped his chopsticks and blindly set the container of chicken to the side. Grabbing Jack’s face in his hands he devoured his lips, forgetting all about his questions and mentally preparing himself for another go round, feeling nervous excitement inside.

“Oy! Jack!”

Pulling away, Ianto’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Owen?” he whispered as Jack grinned and shook his head. Standing, he moved to the base of the ladder and called out.

“Owen! What do you want!”

“Where are you?” Owen called, his voice closer; a pause, “Oh.”

Ianto hastily stacked the food onto the small end table at the head of Jack’s bed before he crawled under the sheet and drew it up to his chest. He could see Owen’s feet and lower legs standing at the top of the ladder. He could imagine him, standing there with his hands on his hips looking down at a naked Jack, probably scowling and rolling his eyes.

“You’re naked,” Owen sighed, his voice was laced with irritation.

“So it would seem. What do you need, Owen?” Jack crossed his arms over his chest and purely for Ianto’s benefit, flexed his glutes.

Ianto rolled his eyes and gave a soft laugh.

“I just thought I’d check in. I thought I saw the SUV out last night,” Owen’s voice traveled down.

Ianto hoped he didn’t decide to crouch down to talk to Jack because of he did, he’d see Ianto in Jack’s bed.

“Everything’s fine,” Jack replied.

Curled up in Jack’s bunk, Ianto rolled his eyes again. All that time they were out chasing that damn blowfish, and they never did catch it. Ianto didn’t blame Jack for lying, but he wondered if the others should know it was out there and to keep an eye out for it.

“Ianto and I took care of it.”

“Ianto?” the sound of surprise and shock as Owen spat out his name was offending and Ianto scoffed with annoyance. He saw Jack tilt his head slightly and look at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to Owen.

“Yes. Ianto,” Jack’s tone was slightly cooler, and Ianto felt his chest warm at Jack’s defense of him.

“Was there anything else?” Jack propped his hands on his hips and Ianto was momentarily reminded of Superman.

“I guess not,” Owen’s tone sounded testy, nearly angry.

“Oh, Ianto forgot his overcoat. It’s on the couch up here.”

“I’ll take it,” Jack raised an arm and a few moments later Ianto’s black, wool coat was falling down from the opening.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow, then,” Jack called and turning he moved back to the bed, tossing Ianto’s coat at the foot of it.

“Right,” Owen’s voice faltered and a few moments later Ianto saw him walk away, hearing his fading footfalls. Straining his ears for the sound of the cog door rolling open and closed, Ianto threw back the sheet when he heard the familiar sound of the gears.

“I don’t know if I should be offended by Owen’s remarks, or…,” Ianto trailed off, looking at Jack.

“Forget him,” Jack climbed onto the bed, falling down on top of Ianto and grinding his groin against him.

“We have hours before everyone reports back for work,” Jack winked, “what can we possibly do to pass the time?”

Ianto gave a wry smile, his hands carding through Jack’s hair as he spread his legs and thrust his hips upward, rubbing his cock against Jack’s.

“I can think of at least one or two things,” Ianto breathed, letting Jack roll onto his back and carry Ianto with him as their mouths met, hands exploring and finding all the right places to pleasure the other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, I hope this latest chapter met with your expectations. Feel free to offer constructive criticism if I've made a mistake. Cheers!


	11. ...and Violins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Combat".

“Morning, Owen,” Ianto stood holding two mugs of steaming coffee and greeted Owen as he came in through the rolling cog door.

“Fuck off.”

Ianto stared after Owen as he shoved past him and descended into the autopsy bay, while Jack observed them both from his position in the doorway of his office. Watching Ianto make coffee, he’d been quite surprised when the cog door started rolling open to reveal the bruised face of Owen. Jack had told him the night before that he expected him back at work the next day, but he didn’t expect that he’d be the first to arrive in the morning. Well, first to arrive after Ianto, but that didn’t really count because Ianto had never left.

Approaching Jack with a slightly frustrated expression on his face, Ianto wordlessly handed him his coffee and the two men stood side by side for a moment. From the autopsy bay, the sound of tiny stainless steel medical instruments raining down onto the concrete floor was followed by the loud bangs of metal trays being tossed, and the slams of the cold storage doors.

Jack glanced at Ianto, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of coffee. Ianto shrugged and with a small shake of his head, turned and retreated down the corridor leading to the archives.

Moving to the narrow aisle that acted as an observation deck above the autopsy bay, Jack leaned his elbows on the rail, sipping his coffee while Owen clamored about, his movements angry and hard.

“What?” Owen yelled after a few minutes, staring up at Jack with obvious contempt.

“I’m here, as you ordered,” Owen smiled bitterly as he threw out his arms. His tone was condescending and laced with bitterness.

When Jack didn’t respond Owen flipped his middle finger up at him and resumed his apparent reorganization of the entire contents of the autopsy bay. Jack silently observed Owen with mounting frustration, mixed with leftover anger, mixed with just the slightest bit of sympathy, though that was quickly waning. He could understand why Owen was so depressed, but he couldn’t understand how he let himself get harangued into that…cult. It may not have been religious but that’s what it was – what it boiled down too; a group of psychopathic men with bloated images of self-importance and, be it known to them or not, a death wish. How else to explain their choice to take their chances in a locked cage with something as obviously vicious as a weevil? Jack could almost forgive the stupidity of the common man, but Owen _knows._ How many times had he been confronted with the violence of a weevil? How many times had he survived a weevil attack?

Jack held his team to high standards, and while Owen should have known better the kicker was that he _did_ know better, he just didn’t care. He was blinded by his misery and the loss of a woman he’d only known barely a week. Jack could believe in the possibility that Owen had fallen in love in that amount of time; he’d been in similar situations himself. But it was ridiculous that he was still carrying on the way he was. It was ridiculous that he had been willing to die.

The laughter of Gwen and Tosh as they came in through the door disrupted Jack’s train of thought.

“Mornin’ Jack,” Gwen grinned, her smile fading ever so slightly as her eyes shifted to Owen, “Owen.”

The only response was more banging and clanging prompting Tosh and Gwen both gave Jack concerned looks.

“Gwen, Tosh,” Jack smiled stiffly and moved back to his office, settling behind his desk trying to figure out what to do about Owen.

~~~~

“I’m not sure I trust him to go out to the field. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed,” Jack said, letting his chin fall forward to come to a rest on his chest. Ianto’s hands, working the knots out of his shoulders, paused before digging in again.

“It’s only been a few days, Jack. He needs time; he’ll heal,” Ianto pressed his fingers deep into the tight muscles of Jack’s neck. He could feel his twisted, knotted muscles resisting. Ianto’s touch was almost painful he was wound up so tight.

“Oh, man,” Jack sighed, his head still hanging forward.

“You need to relax,” Ianto said, his hands moving slowly down Jack’s spine, thumbs pressing.

“Easier said than done,” Jack groaned.

“I think I know of something that might help?” Ianto’s lips were pressed against Jack’s neck, the heat from his breath stimulating the hairs on the nape of his neck, sending shivers through Jack.

“I know you do,” Jack raised his head and turning he met Ianto’s mouth. Hands reaching up, Jack grabbed the back of Ianto’s head and gently held him as their tongues danced. They were already in various stages of undress, and it didn’t take much longer for them to strip each other completely.

Afterwards, they lay together on Jack’s bunk.

“I still don’t know what to do about Owen,” Jack said with a sigh.

“Well the good news is you don’t have to figure it out tonight,” Ianto yawned, tucking his head into the space above Jack’s shoulder, “so try to put it out of your mind for one night.”

“Yeah,” Jack whispered, knowing that was impossible and that this would be one of those nights he wouldn’t sleep.

~~~~

Owen was first to arrive the following day, and he was just as cheerful as the day before; meaning, not at all. Though instead of tearing apart the autopsy bay, he headed straight for the vaults where he spent the better part of the morning just staring at the weevils that were locked up down there.

Jack, monitoring him from his office in case he decided to climb in with one and finish what he’d started, was still torn about what to do. He wanted to help, the problem was that Owen needed to want to be helped or it wouldn’t matter what Jack did.

~~~~

“I’ll say again, he just needs time and space to figure things out,” Ianto said, pulling a handful of grapes off the vine.

Jack just sighed in response. He wasn’t a patient man.

They were sitting on the sofa in the Hub, a giant bowl of fresh fruit between them. The others had gone home hours ago and still, the question of Owen was haunting Jack. It helped, though, talking to Ianto about it. The problem seemed a lot smaller, more manageable and less catastrophic. Jack had a tendency to exaggerate issues and for some reason, this thing with Owen was giving him a lot of bad feelings. But he felt some measure of comfort and control with Ianto’s perspective; he was thankful he had someone to talk too.

“I mean,” Ianto paused, “it’s going to take some time for him to move on. Like with…”

Jack turned his head to look at Ianto. He had a grape pressed against his lips and a troubled look on his face.

“Like with what?” Jack asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Ianto shook his head slightly before he slid the grape into his mouth. Jack could hear it pop as he bit down. He kept his gaze on Ianto, letting him finish chewing before repeating his question.

“Ianto,” Jack reached out and grasped the other man’s hand, stroking his thumb over the smooth skin, “like with what?”

Ianto turned to look at Jack with what could only be described as a pained expression.

“You know,” he said, “Lisa.”

“Not the same,” Jack said immediately.

“I know,” Ianto laughed bitterly, “What I did was worse.”

“Ianto,” Jack shook his head with a sigh.

“No, Jack,” Ianto shifted on the sofa, pulling his hand away. “What Owen did, with the weevil fighting, sure it was terrible and stupid but it doesn’t even compare to what I did.”

“How could you forgive me so easily, yet hold Owen to some higher standard?”

Jack took a deep breath, considering his words carefully.

“It wasn’t easy,” Jack started, remembering how angry he was at Ianto, and for how long, “and I don’t hold Owen to a higher standard. I just,” Jack threw up his hands, “I don’t know…I guess I just like you more?”

“Jack,” Ianto sighed, admonishment in his tone.

Jack really didn’t know why he was being so hard on Owen. Ianto was partially right, though Jack didn’t want to admit it; he did have higher expectations from Owen. Maybe it was because he was a doctor, and understood more about the fragility of life and death; but with what happened with Lisa that wasn’t fair to say. Ianto knew plenty about the fragility of life and death. Jack just wasn’t sure. He would never acknowledge any truth in Ianto’s claims, though. He couldn’t. That would mean admitting to something else he didn’t want to, his burgeoning feelings for Ianto.

Jack had yet to label the emotions he was feeling, or allow them to become anything more than the feelings of a close friend (with a side of sex; friends with benefits, as the colloquialism went) – yet he knew if he let himself he could fall hard for Ianto; and he wasn’t sure he was prepared for that, either.

“Look, you had been with Lisa for years, and Owen only knew Diane for a few days. You’re situations are hardly the same.”

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t love her, though,” Ianto countered. Jack just sighed again.

“Dammit,” Jack reached into the bowl and grabbed a handful of large, red, plump, strawberries.

“Where’d you get all this fresh fruit in the dead of winter, anyway?” Jack asked, changing the subject, tired of thinking about Owen.

“I have my sources,” Ianto smirked, eliciting a small laugh from Jack.

~~~~

Jack almost always was friskiest in the morning hours, which was one reason he loved having Ianto stay at the Hub. Early morning sex was his favorite.

The two men, hands and mouths all over each other, didn’t hear the cog door as it rolled opened. Eyes only for each other, they didn’t see the buzz of the overhead lights as someone flicked them on. Ears full with the hot breaths of the each other they also didn’t hear Mwyfanwy scuttle in her enclosure at the early morning visitor.

When Jack and Ianto finally climbed up the ladder and emerged into Jack’s office, they still didn’t notice that they weren’t alone. It was early by Torchwood standards and they weren’t expecting anyone to be in the Hub yet; no one ever was at that time of morning. So when Jack opened the doors to his office, his hand fondling Ianto’s rear while the Welshman protested not too convincingly and they both saw Owen standing at the arched entry to the autopsy bay, they stopped dead in their tracks.

Ianto glanced at Jack with an embarrassed, mortified look on his face before retreating a few steps back into the shadows of the dark office.

“What the fuck?” Owen looked at them, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“Well, everything is starting to make sense now,” Owen snidely commented after a few minutes of the three men exchanging awkward looks yet no one saying a word.

“Ianto hides his cyber girlfriend in the basement, she almost kills us all, and he gets a slap in the wrist. I make the mistake of falling in love with a woman who leaves me to fly off into the rift, probably to her death, and when I try to blow off some steam, I get shit on.”

“This is fucking, bloody brilliant,” Owen crossed his arms, his jaw clenched tight.

“Coffee? Ianto?” Jack asked, trying to keep his expression unreadable though he was growing angrier by the minute. Ianto nodded, moving across the Hub to the coffee maker.

“Yes, Ianto, coffee please, cream no sugar in mine!” Owen yelled after him.

“Owen,” Jack’s voice warned as he pointed into his office.

“What, my turn? Sorry Jack I don’t swing that way,” Owen growled, staring at Jack for several seconds before shrugging and walking into the office.

“Sit,” Jack moved behind his desk and waited for Owen to sit before he followed suit.

“I’ve been waiting patiently for this attitude of yours to fade,” Jack started, holding up his hand to silent Owen when he opened his mouth.

“We all want to help you,” Jack leaned forward on his elbows, “but you don’t seem to want our help so I don’t know what else to do.”

Owen was slouched in the chair, his posture echoing that of a petulant child.

“Do you want Retcon?”

Jack didn’t miss the momentary look of panic that crossed Owen’s features.

“Or do I shove you back into work, knowing you’re unstable and that sending you out in the field risks the lives of the team?”

Owen simply shrugged as if he didn’t care.

“Do you want to die, Owen?” Jack asked, after staring at Owen for several minutes, trying to read any emotion from him that wasn’t anger or resentment or injured pride.

For a brief moment, Owen looked ashamed, but it was fleeting and his expression resumed that of someone sucking sour lemons.

“You know things weren’t all that different the first time we met,” Jack said, his tone gentler, attempting a different tact.

“Screw you for bringing that up,” Owen said, his voice low.

“My point is, you got past that, and you can get past this,” Jack said.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Jack,” Owen nodded, and Jack was afraid he’d lost him again.

“Tis’ better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all,” Jack leaned back in his chair, “or so says Tennyson.”

Owen simply stared at him, his expression blank and his eyes glassy. Was Ianto right? Would it just take more time? Jack was fast losing the little patience he had to wait and see but he didn’t know what else to do. He certainly wasn’t going to retcon Owen, at least not yet.

“You’re on lockdown here until further notice. Go,” Jack grumbled, waving his hand. If Owen wasn’t going to listen, Jack wasn’t going to waste his time talking.

Owen stood without a word and made for the door, nearly running over Ianto who had come in with two steaming mugs in hand.

“Mine have cream no sugar?” Owen said sarcastically as he grabbed one of the mugs, sloshing the hot coffee. Jack saw Ianto wince as it spilled over onto the back of his hand.

“You two enjoy yourselves,” Owen bowed at the door before retreating back to the autopsy bay.

Ianto approached the large wooden desk and silently handed Jack his coffee, wiping his other hand on the leg of his trousers.

“Well, seems the cat’s out of the bag,” Jack said, glancing up at Ianto to gauge his reaction.

“Owen won’t say anything,” Ianto shrugged, “not that I care.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Jack replied, sipping his coffee and reading the slight hint of worry that was written on Ianto’s face.


	12. The Tape Measure, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Captain Jack Harkness.

When Gwen came through the rolling door of the Hub with Tosh and Jack in tow, Ianto had wanted nothing more than to run to them; or rather to  _him_. He'd managed to avoid thinking the very worst when he'd been fighting with Owen over opening the rift; that Jack was really gone forever and for good. He'd been able to ignore the thoughts that if Owen succeeded he'd get Jack back, and that if Ianto managed to stop Owen, Jack would be lost forever. That last part was what threatened to render him a quivering heap now.

Ianto had tried so hard to prevent Owen from opening the rift; but he'd been able to do it anyway and had ultimately brought back Jack and Tosh. Had Ianto had his way, the rift would never have been opened and Jack and Tosh would never have ever made it back. The thought made Ianto sick and he hated himself for his actions. He'd wanted to preserve Jack's control of Torchwood; the rift was the first thing any new employee was told about; and warned about.

"Never mess with the rift," Jack had said back on Ianto's first day.

He glanced at Owen, sitting at the computer he shared with Gwen, shoulder bandaged. He was watching Ianto with a resentful stare.

Jack was okay, though and back in the present day, uninjured. Ianto focused his energy on being glad for that. He watched closely as Jack moved past him, eyes straight ahead as he moved to his office and tossed his greatcoat onto his desk chair.

Trying not to be hurt by the slight, Ianto willed his muscles, taught with the desire to sprint into Jack's arms, to be still, and he didn't run to Jack. Instead he stayed seated at Tosh's computer and monitored the rift, surreptitiously watching Jack out of the corner of his eye and wishing he, not Tosh, was the one in there comforting him; talking to him, touching his arm with comfort and bending his head close to speak in whispers. Watching them standing so close Ianto felt irrational jealousy that he couldn't be the one to be there for Jack. He didn't begrudge Tosh; she had been through the ordeal with Jack and could likely relate, but Ianto had been through his own sort of hell, too, and he needed his own kind of reassurance from Jack.

Tapping his fingers absently on the keyboard, Ianto turned back to the screen. The rift was quiet. After the big spike that brought back Jack and Tosh, activity had dropped off significantly. Ianto hoped this wasn't the calm before the storm…

They knew nothing about the rift, not really. They'd interfered with something they didn't understand, and while it had brought two of their team-members back, it was still unknown what effect their meddling would have on the rift, temporarily or permanently.

* * *

Ianto busied himself cleaning up after the team, taking just enough time that once again he was the last one remaining in the office. He briefly wondered if Owen had said anything about what he'd walked in on to Gwen or Tosh, but he didn't think so. Based on the way the two women were still treating Owen, no one was sharing any secrets among them. There was too much animosity and history between them. Ianto was also certain Gwen would say something to him if she knew; she still looked at Jack sometimes, like she wished she could have him. Jack used to spend a lot of time gazing at Gwen that way too, and sometimes Ianto caught brief glimpses of it – usually after Gwen mentioned Rhys. Ianto tried not to let it bother him but it give him pause, made him wonder just what he was to Jack, if anything other than a fuck-buddy; a part-time shag as Owen had proclaimed.

Wiping up the last bit of dust that only he seemed to ever notice, Ianto glanced into Jack's office where the older man was seated at his desk, head propped on his hands and his eyes staring off into space. He appeared sad.

Taking a deep breath, Ianto moved to the open doorway and leaned against the doorjamb, his hands in his pockets, palms sweaty with nerves.

"Jack?" he spoke softly so as not to startle the other man.

Turning to look at him, Jack offered a sad smile before he stood from the desk and moved across the room, taking Ianto into his arms without a word and burying his head into the crook of his neck as his arms held him tight.

Ianto kept his hands in his pockets for a moment, surprised at the tenderness Jack was showing, surprised at the emotion and vulnerability. Jack had never shown himself to be in need of those things and after the thoughts of doubt Ianto had been struggling with all afternoon, the gesture gave him reason to hope that maybe Jack liked him for more than just sex.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack, softly rubbing his back with one hand while the other gripped the back of Jack's neck and held him close.

"Jack," Ianto whispered, "what happened?"

Hot breath warmed Ianto's neck as the other man let out a heavy sigh.

"Too much," Jack pulled back, seemingly reluctantly.

Ianto too, reluctantly let him go then watched as he paced back over to his desk and perched on the edge.

"It's only a matter of time now," Jack added cryptically, eyes leveled at Ianto.

"Matter of time for what?" he asked, crossing the room to stand in front of Jack.

"The rift," Jack threw his head back and heaved another heavy sigh.

"I tried to stop him," Ianto started, certain that Jack was disappointed in him. After all he had failed to keep Owen from doing the one thing Jack had warned them all never to do. Jack raised a hand to silence him.

"I know, and that's not what I mean," Jack smiled reassuringly.

"But you wouldn't be back if he hadn't done it," Ianto lowered his gaze slightly. The conflicting emotions he'd suppressed earlier started to fester again.

"I'm glad you tried," Jack said.

Ianto felt a hand under his chin, forcing his eyes up. Jack leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Ianto's lips, his hand moving to cup Ianto's cheek while Ianto's hand flew up to his face to press against Jack's hand. It hadn't even been one day, but Ianto had missed the feel of Jack's hands on him. Desperately.

"What did you mean then?" he asked as Jack pulled back, taking his hand with him.

Shaking his head, Jack stood from the desk and walked over to the doorway leading to the rest of the Hub.

"I've been around a long time," he said, his back to Ianto, "I've seen a lot of things."

"Okay. So tell me," Ianto moved to stand next to Jack in the doorway, trying to read the other man's expression. Trying to find the way in that he'd been searching for. Desperate for Jack to finally trust him; to confide in him.

Shaking his head and smiling widely, Ianto recognized the toothy grin that Jack used to mask his real feelings.

The phone on Jack's desk started to ring, startling both men. With one last glance at Ianto, Jack moved to sit behind his desk as he fielded the call. Ianto only heard half the conversation but from what Jack was saying, strange things were starting to happen in Cardiff.

He hung up with a heavy sigh.

"You should go home," he said as the phone rang again.

"You don't need my help?" Ianto asked. Jack shook his head as he picked up the receiver.

"Go," he smiled warmly before pressing the receiver to his ear. Ianto watched as Jack listened, his expression changing; hardening.

Ianto backed slowly out of Jack's office and with one last look he turned and left. He wasn't prepared for what would be his first night sleeping alone in months. He'd become accustomed to Jack's presence; he become accustomed to cuddling up close while the two men shared the narrow bunk in Jack's quarters.

* * *

Ianto's father had been older before he'd started his family. As such, Ianto had heard many stories of life in Wales after World War II. Back in his apartment, Ianto sought out the few tangible reminders he had of his father, all of which fit into a narrow shoebox.

Fixing a cup of tea, Ianto pulled the shoebox from his closet and settled on his sofa. His father had been born in the early 1940's, and as a young boy lived through the bombings and the rationing and the rebuilding. There were precious few things that had survived his father's rough life, but a handful of snapshots were one that did. Ianto thumbed through the old black and white photos, examining the hard faces of his grandparents – people he never knew – and the soft features of the little boy that would grow up to be his father.

What had 1941 been like for Jack? Were the people he'd met like the ones in these photos and all the other photos he'd seen from that time? Ianto could imagine Jack then, except for his exuberance for life, he was really timeless.

Looking into the shoebox, Ianto pulled out the ration book that somehow had survived all the years after the war. There were still coupons in the back for sugar and eggs.

Peering back into the box, Ianto saw the soft, worn tape measure that had been his grandfather's. Wrapping it around his fingers he leaned back against the sofa, his eyes suddenly heavy.

He slept that night there, on the sofa with his grandfather's tape measure tangled in his hands. In his dreams he saw Jack, fully dressed in military regalia, acting the part of a war hero.


	13. Running to Stand Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "End of Days", and before "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make some allusions to torture and rape in this chapter. They are vague, but present.

"Something’s taken him, Jack's gone."

In one hand Ianto clutched a cup of coffee. The heat from it radiated through the cardboard cup and started to burn his hand. He blankly stared at Gwen as the weight of the tray he held in his other hand, which held coffees meant for her and Jack, suddenly seemed unbearable. Her words seemed to hang in the air. Ianto could almost see letters moving to form words which hung suspended in fluffy white thought balloon that floated above her disheveled head.

 _Something’s taken him, Jack’s gone_.

It didn’t make sense. Jack wouldn’t just leave them; he wouldn’t just leave him.

Gwen’s words played over and over echoing inside his head as the others quickly moved up the short flight of steps to the computer terminals. Owen and Gwen were yelling over each other; Owen blaming Gwen for not watching Jack while Gwen yelled back at Owen that Jack was a grown man, he shouldn’t need babysitting. Tosh just stood with her mouth slightly agape, acting as if she wanted to join in but wasn’t sure how.

Ianto remained at the bottom of the stairs, watching them with a strange sense of emotional detachment. When the cog door began to roll closed he started, the alarm and flashing lights dragging him back to reality. His head felt thick and foggy, and all he could think was this wasn’t right what was happening.  He looked around, confused, certain he would find Jack hiding somewhere, grinning, playing a cruel joke on them all. But all he saw were papers strewn about; most of them floating in the shallow pool of water that persisted beneath the metal walkways of the Hub giving it a dank feel. That was when Ianto noticed that the hand was gone.

The hand in the jar; the hand that Jack obsessed over; the hand he wouldn’t explain; the hand that just a few hours earlier, when Jack was dead and they all had thought he was dead for good, Ianto and Tosh had rewired to the equipment beneath it; equipment that was now dark and silent, no longer steadily humming and emitting a blue glow.

“The hand is gone,” Ianto called out to no one in particular, semi-aware that the others were ignoring him as they continued to yell, trying unsuccessfully to put a trace on the signal from Jack’s wrist-strap.

Ianto sighed and set the coffees on the spot where the giant jar used to be. He walked up the few steps to the workstations and stood in front of the tattered sofa for a moment before he called out, feeling a momentary flash of perverse pleasure as they all jumped at his raised voice.

“Oi! I said the hand is gone!” Ianto emphasized, pointing deliberately in the direction of the darkened equipment where three coffees in a cardboard tray were perched, instead of a jar containing a severed hand suspended in glowing, bubbly, liquid muck.

Tosh and Gwen craned their necks to look.

“So Jack’s gone off with a bloody hand in a jar,” Owen scowled and shook his head before he threw his pen angrily across the Hub. Ianto and the others stared after it as it disappeared into the shadows where they heard it bounce off something metal and splash as it hit water.

“He’s mental,” Owen added emphatically, sinking lower into his chair.

“This could be good news. It probably means he wasn’t taken against his will,” Tosh added hopefully, ignoring Owen’s outburst. She was unaware that for Ianto, it would be easier if Jack were kidnapped. It would mean he hadn’t left them on purpose; that he hadn’t left Ianto on purpose. Not after everything they’d gone through as a team; not after everything Ianto and Jack had gone through with each other.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen agreed, her face set firmly as she nodded, “besides, he may be right back. No need worrying he’s gone off forever.”

Her wide eyes looked at Ianto, seemingly searching for confirmation. Ianto just stared back at her blankly, afraid he could not share her optimism. Unfortunately he was used to people leaving and this was just one more abandonment; granted one he’d never expected, and that just made it feel all the more permanent. No, Ianto doubted they’d ever see Jack again.

He remembered how he’d sometimes see a faraway look on Jack’s face, and he’d noticed the way Jack would every now and then tilt his head like he was listening for a sound only he could hear. Ianto had hoped one day to ask Jack what it was he was waiting for; what it was he was listening for. But now it was too late. It seemed Jack had found whatever it was; had found it and left the rest of them behind without a second thought.

Apparently not getting the reaction she wanted from him, Gwen looked away. Suddenly, Ianto’s stomach twisted painfully and it was all he could do to remain standing upright as the cumulative emotions of the previous days threatened to overpower him.  Glancing towards Jack’s office, he let out a long, shuddering sigh. A black hole was opening up in his chest and he felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, and aloneness.   

 _How had everything turned bad so fast,_ he thought, wishing desperately for the man himself to suddenly appear; to laugh and clap Ianto on the back, to let his hand linger on him, to let his fingers traced hot lines down his body. He wished for Jack kiss him, to touch him; to make him feel every nerve ending in his body; to make him feel alive.

Only a few hours ago he’d been tight in Jack’s arms. The Captain, resurrected once more. Ianto warmed at the memory, remembering the feel of Jack’s hands on his face as he had kissed him. He raised his hand and lightly touched his fingers to his mouth, trying to find the ghost of Jack on his lips.

“So what do we do now?” Tosh asked finally, and to no one in particular.

Ianto dropped his hand back to his side and watched the others share a look. They didn’t even glance his way. Backing slowly, Ianto sat heavily on the sofa as his three coworkers starting arguing again, this time over protocol and procedure and who was in charge now that their “fearless leader”, as Owen sarcastically called him, was gone without a trace.

With a shattered confidence and almost no self-worth left, Ianto stared ahead in solemn silence, too emotionally exhausted to participate. He simply waited for someone to tell him what to do.

_Jack leapt through the air, the weight of the jar in the pack on his back giving him forward momentum. His hands reached out for the TARDIS, which was already beginning to shift out of sight with its characteristic sound. He opened his mouth, calling out for the Doctor. His mind raced with the endless list of questions he had; the multitude of answers he demanded to be given. When his hands found purchase against the rough wood exterior of the police box, Jack gripped tight as he felt increasing pressure on his body. The breathable atmosphere quickly faded away around him as the bright blue vehicle started its travel through space and time. Jack gave one last, gasping breath before his field of vision faded to black and he died…_

Since the day they’d resurrected Suzie, then killed her again, Ianto could count on two hands the number of nights he’d spent alone. Jack, and the relationship they had started, had been an unexpected surprise for Ianto. Though the physical aspects of their relationship had moved very fast once they’d started, Ianto was still surprised to find how quickly he had also come to count on Jack’s presence in his life. How much of a part of Ianto’s daily routine Jack was…

In the days following Jack’s first death and resurrection, then his second death and resurrection, Ianto had spent all his nights at the Hub with the others keeping vigil; waiting. He wasn’t technically alone, but he certainly wasn’t with Jack. Not like before. Not wrapped tight in Jack’s strong arms on the tiny bed (Ianto used that word loosely) in Jack’s quarters. When Jack had awoken from the dead that second time, Ianto’s first thoughts were to get him back to his flat and out of that dingy, mildew-infested Hub. Jack deserved a proper “welcome back”, in a proper bed made for two.

But Gwen had wanted coffee and to talk to Jack in private. So Ianto, being the considerate man he was, went to get coffees with Owen and Tosh. And that was it. Jack was nowhere.

Ianto had had a few moments with him; one last kiss. Then he was just gone. Without a trace, save a missing jar containing a severed hand. He tried not to blame Gwen for stealing the time he might have had with Jack. She couldn’t have known. Still, he felt the need to blame someone and it was easier to be resentful of her than of the one who had done the leaving. She was there, a target for him to focus on.

Ianto now faced his first night truly alone. Jack was gone and it messed with his head, knowing that there was something (or God forbid someone) out there that Jack cared about more than Ianto, or the team, or Torchwood itself, that he’d just leave it all without so much as a backward glance or a goodbye.

These were the things Ianto thought about while Owen and Gwen argued. After several hours a compromise was reached and the two agreed to trade-off leading the team for the next few days; they were both certain Jack would be back before long-term plans had to be made. Ianto wished he could share their hopefulness but his body seemed incapable of feeling hopeful anymore.

Owen and Tosh left soon thereafter, leaving Gwen and Ianto alone. Taking up the duties that everyone seemed to assume belonged to him exclusively, Ianto started to clean up the mess in the Hub. He tossed out papers ruined from sitting in the mucky water, refusing Gwen’s offer of help.  She seemed to want to say more to him, hovering nearby and watching him while he fished out of the shallow pool handfuls of rift activity reports, now ruined. He chose to ignore her, not in the mood to console her. He was the one who needed consoling, but there was no one to do that, and no one who would even think of it. 

After about ten minutes Gwen finally left, leaving Ianto alone in the quiet and it was then he allowed himself to fully acknowledge the absence of Jack. It was everywhere. There wasn’t one thing about Torchwood or the Hub that didn’t remind him of Jack and as his emotional roller coaster crested another hill and started down again moving wild and fast, his gut twisted and bile rose up in his throat. Knowing Jack was alive and out there somewhere, choosing to stay away was so much worse than when he’d thought Jack was lying dead on a slab about to go into cold storage. At least thinking he was dead meant there was finality to the pain. He knew where he stood; but not now. Not like this.

“Fuck you, Jack,” Ianto yelled into the empty Hub, causing Mwyfanwy to scuttle in her cage. He crumpled a handful of dripping-wet reports and threw the clump hard at the glass that separated Jack’s office from the rest of the Hub. The giant wad hit with a resounding thud, and with it Ianto felt like he’d been gut-punched.

“Fuck you,” he whispered.

Leaving the rest of the scattered mess for the morning, he pulled on his jacket and drove home, trying to put Captain Jack Harkness out of his mind.

* * *

_”The poor girl who will screw any alien who gives her a pendant.”_

_When the Master had ordered Jack be taken to the engine room of the Valiant, for some reason his hurtful, last words to Tosh were the first thing that rang out in his head. The last thing he saw were the worried faces of Martha’s family, and the sad expression of the aged Doctor as two large men brusquely grabbed Jack and dragged him off. His thoughts immediately went to Tosh…_

_Tosh – who wanted nothing more than to be loved for who she was. A little like Martha in that way; simply wanting acceptance and to be seen for the wonderful woman she was. To be loved by someone for who she was, not who they wanted her to be. Jack had always seen that part of Tosh, but he’d never bothered to acknowledge it in front of her. Instead, he’d taken her deepest, personal insecurity and had thrown it back in her face in the cruelest way; and in front of everyone. In his mind he saw her wide, hurt eyes looking at him and he swore to himself, if he got back to them he would make it up to her. Show her that she was wonderful, and deserving of a real, true love. That she was perfect just as she was._

_Dragged to the engine room with his wrists shackled he was positioned between two steel beams, his arms pulled out to his sides and secured. He stood defenseless as the two large men double checked their work, apparently pleased with their skills at securing a padlock on a set of chains. Moments later The Master appeared alongside them. He held a strange, bulbous stick in his hand and he wore a grin that chilled Jack._

_“I’ve heard so much about you,” his eyes searched Jack’s face as he moved so close Jack could feel his warm breath on his skin._

_“I’m really looking forward to our time together,” The Master added, and his evil grin was the last thing Jack saw before the narrow end of the stick was shoved hard into his gut. The piercing, burning pain was almost the worst thing Jack could remember ever feeling…and then he felt nothing as he died._

**Week One…**

The first full day without Jack was a disaster. Not because of alien invasion, or another monster from the rift, or anything remotely world-threatening. It was a disaster because it was so normal. 

Ianto arrived early, having had a terrible night spent tossing and turning and dreaming over and over about Jack’s death (the first one, by Owen’s hand). He started making coffee, finding some comfort in the routine. It was only as he lined up the five mugs that he realized the white one with the blue stripes would not be getting any use, likely never again.  It was all he could do not to throw the mug across the room. Instead he put it back on the shelf above the coffee maker, but pushed it to the back. Out of the way; out of sight.

The others soon arrived in quick succession and Ianto was there with their coffee ready, as usual. Kind smiles from Gwen and Tosh, and a cursory nod from Owen were all he got for his troubles, but he didn’t care. It was all part of the routine and for now that was all he wanted. Regular, normal, routine.

Leaving the brooding threesome to their computers, Ianto retreated to the part of the Hub he felt most comfortable, and the place where he knew he was unlikely to be tracked down by anyone; the archives.

Before the rift, and Abaddon, and Jack’s death(s), Ianto had been clearing out and organizing boxes of old reports and artifacts from the 1930s. Many of the files were sealed, but on a few the seal had dried up and broken. During his reorganization Ianto had glimpsed in some of those files the familiar, slanted, graceful signature of Captain Jack Harkness. He felt desperate to see those loopy letters and to touch paperwork that Jack had once touched. He may be angry and hurt, but he still cared.

He was at home in the dust and the dinge and the low lighting and he lost himself in the work, for the first time reading over the reports instead of just filing them away. It hadn’t made sense before, how Jack could have filled out and signed reports from the 1930s. Ianto had been planning to ask him about it when the mess with the rift and Billis had started. There had been no time then and now, though he didn’t know details, Ianto could make some sense of the signature on the reports. If Jack couldn’t stay dead then who was to say how long he’d been alive before Ianto or the rest of the team had come along. The thought made Ianto feel very small and insignificant, but it also made sense when compared with some of the things Jack would say and do, and why he insisted on wearing fashions from the 1940s. Not that Ianto would ever complain. He loved that coat. He desperately missed that coat.

What must have been hours later, Ianto was brought back to reality by rumbling hunger in his stomach. Glancing at his wristwatch, he saw it was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon. Sighing heavily and straightening his suit he braced himself for questions as he returned to the main level of the Hub. He needn’t have worried as the place was deserted. Ianto walked quietly to the middle-level to find a scribbled note on Tosh’s monitor.

“Out on a Weevil hunt,” Ianto read the note out loud and curious, he turned to the computer and brought up the tracking program that would allow him to check the location of the SUV. After watching it maneuver the streets of Cardiff for a few minutes, Ianto turned off the monitor and went out for some food, stowing his Bluetooth in his jacket pocket on his way out.

Two hours later and back in the throes of organizing the archives, he was distracted by a commotion that could only be associated with the capture of Weevils. Ianto rose from his spot on the floor and wandered down the dark hallway to the vaults where a very wet Owen, and a very dirty and angry Gwen struggled to move a fairly small Weevil (small being relative for Weevils) into an empty cell.

“What happened?” Ianto asked, a bit bemused at the condition of the two of them.

“If you’d been wearing your ear-piece, you would know!” Gwen snapped at him as they slammed the cell door shut. She stormed out, but not before shooting Ianto a piercing look.

“Bit of a rough day hunting,” Owen said with a nod and a sardonic smile as he passed, the Weevil continuing to snarl from the cell.

Ianto listened to the Weevil ram against the steel door for a moment before following Owen back out to the main area of the Hub.

“Seriously, Ianto, we tried to contact you,” Gwen was standing in front of her station, brushing bits of mud and weeds out of her hair. Owen descended to the autopsy bay where he promptly and without a hint of modesty, stripped off his wet clothes and pulled on a set of dry scrubs.

“I was in the archives all day,” Ianto said calmly, fingering the Bluetooth he and the others all wore, which was still in his jacket pocket.

“Well with Jack gone, you’ve got to be available,” Gwen looked at him, her anger visibly deflating.

“Right,” Ianto nodded, feeling appropriately ashamed. Just because he was pissed at Jack and miserable with life didn’t mean he could ignore his responsibilities. He still had a job to do.

“We could have used your support today,” Tosh added gently, coming up the small flight of stairs, her arms laden with her laptop and other assorted technological gadgets she never went anywhere without. She was the only one of the three not wet or muddy.

“I’ll do my best to stay in touch,” Ianto replied softly, his hand gripping the Bluetooth firmly. He’d put it back on as soon as he was out of sight of the others.

“That’s all we’re asking,” Gwen reached out her hand, laying it on his forearm. Ianto saw in her face, the sympathy she felt. No one, save Owen, had had any prior knowledge of Jack and Ianto’s whatever it was. Yet after the last kiss in front of them all, Ianto figured they were now assuming things about him and it made him very uncomfortable. In his head he could hear Jack laughing at him, teasing him for his prudishness and proudly proclaiming to them all that Ianto was his best, and his very own, personal lay.

“Yeah,” Ianto pulled back, offering a tight smile. The stares and touches were too much, so he quickly retreated back to the archives where the rest of the day passed uneventfully and the Bluetooth, back in his ear, remained silent.

In fact, for all the mess the rift had caused in the days prior to Jack’s disappearance, it was unusually quiet in the days following. The week passed with little more than the usual weevil sightings, though that didn’t stop the phones from ringing. All levels of government, post-Abbadon, were now blatantly aware of Torchwood’s existence and they all wanted in on the game of hunting aliens and researching their alien tech. Ianto, who had been the only one in the Hub still willing to answer the phones the first few days after Jack’s disappearance, quickly ceased doing so. And after days of the phone in Jack’s office ringing non-stop, Owen finally pulled it from the wall. It was the sole landline to Torchwood and the Hub, so only those government agents with cell phone numbers for the team could contact them now, and the silence was bliss. Mostly.

Without aliens to hunt or phones to answer, they all had time to sit around and think. For Ianto at least he had the archives. But after days on end of nothing but filing and organizing even that wasn’t enough distraction from the obvious, gaping hole in the team, and in his life.

* * *

_“Owen so strong he gets into a cage with a weevil, desperate to be mauled”_

_Weevils were the cockroaches of the alien world. Jack had to wonder how many of them there were beyond the rift, in their native world, for so many to fall through. He wondered if the team was now tracking a weevil. He wondered if Owen was still so depressed that he’d let one kill him._

_Hundreds of times Owen had come close to dying at the hands of the vicious creatures, yet he never did. Then he had willingly gotten into a cage with one. Jack had been furious; Owen was smart and had a strong sense of self-preservation, yet after Diane left he seemed to give up his will to live. For a woman he’d known less than a week. So he had decided to let a weevil maul him. Jack still didn’t get it and if he thought about it too much, it still made him angry._

_Where had he gone wrong? Did he give his team too much power? Did he make them believe they could control the things and the people in their lives? No doubt Jack had been distracted by his own affairs; by Ianto. Owen had needed and deserved more than five minutes of tough love from Jack, after the fact, but Jack hadn’t been there to provide it._

_I could have handled that whole thing so much better, Jack thought sadly._

_He owed Owen a lot more than he had given him and he promised himself that when he finally got back to the team he’d be more attentive; more understanding to all of them. He’d take their personal feelings more seriously, and pay closer attention to them when they were injured emotionally._

_Suddenly his stomach rumbled loud enough that one of the large, muscular men guarding him turned to look._

_“What?” Jack grinned widely, winking and thrusting his hips in a suggestive manner, trying to ignore the hunger pangs. He had figured out pretty quick that the guards got uncomfortable when he made sexually suggestive jokes or moves, and so they kept their distance. It was ridiculous, really. It wasn’t as if Jack could actually do anything to them. He thought he might be strong enough to break the chains holding him, but then what? He was so weak from lack of food that he was certain he couldn’t take out both men before they’d kill him. Then they’d just chain him back up and he’d be back in this same position once again. He needed to be patient. He was sure the Doctor was cooking up a plan and he’d let Jack know what his part was as soon as he safely could._

_The recognizable sound of fast moving footsteps stirred a now familiar sense of dread within Jack. Eyes glued to the narrow passageway that led towards the only exit, he wasn’t surprised when The Master suddenly appeared, this time with a crowbar in hand._

_“Jack,” he winked as he moved closer, “so good to see you up and about.”_

_Jack grinned with as much bravado as he could muster, bracing himself for the day’s big event as he let his mind go. Without any preamble or pomp and circumstance, The Master raised the crowbar and brought it down in a wide arc, slicing Jack open shoulder to hip. The pain was instant and excruciating but it wasn’t long before he felt nothing, his consciousness fading to black as he died, thoughts of Owen lingering in the back of his mind…another day, another death._

**Week Two…**

A new week at Torchwood and there was still no word about Jack. The others still held out hope, but Ianto could see them beginning to doubt; to consider that maybe Jack was not coming back. Ianto, after working in the archives alone all weekend (it was that or sit at home alone), just felt numb. Instead of filing and organizing old reports he had spent his time seeking out anything and everything that’d had Jack’s name on it. He’d read hundreds of reports about aliens of every caliber. It didn’t bring him closer to Jack like he’d hoped. It just made the Captain’s absence all the more obvious and as such, the disappointment and cutting pain he’d been feeling was quickly replaced by a numbing anger and Ianto didn’t care who knew or what they thought anymore.

He stopped making coffee and he left ordering lunch up to someone else. He holed up in the archives, desperately trying to find something down there that would give him some insight into Jack. He needed to find a connection to the man, to understand him or he felt he would go insane. He needed something that gave some humanity back to Jack because all Ianto could remember was the uncaring man who had abandoned his entire team with no warning; the cold, calculated man that had spoken so cruelly to them all right before Owen had shot him in the head.

That moment; seeing Jack on the floor, bleeding with a bullet hole in the center of his forehead, had been almost transcendent. Ianto hadn’t really wanted to open the rift, yet he had gone along with the others anyway, almost as if in a trance. He hadn’t felt in control of his body. It was as if the memory of Lisa and his previous self were controlling him like a puppet master, directing his actions even as he knew they were wrong, that they needed to stop.

Sighing heavily, Ianto slammed shut another file cabinet drawer before yanking open the one below it. He thumbed through the files there, eyes searching only for the familiar slanting letters of Jack’s signature. That was when he found it, the report of Mary’s death.

Pulling it gently from the drawer, Ianto retreated to the furthest corner of the large room where he knew the cameras couldn’t quite see. Settling himself among the cobwebs and dust bunnies he gingerly opened the file. The first thing he noticed was the photograph. Mary Cormins had been her name, and she had been beautiful. The photograph was old, a black and white from the 1920’s but still Ianto could tell that she’d had full, red lips and large, bright blue eyes. In fact, she resembled Gwen in a lot of ways. It made some sense now, why Jack would sometimes look at Gwen the way he did.

Ianto read through the report, which, similar to how they wrote them now, was thin on details and heavy on grand, sweeping statements that offered no real information. Apparently there had been a fight. An alien called a Hiyadraphina had stabbed Mary with a knife laced with poison from its home world. She’d died in minutes, in Jack’s arms.

“Shit,” Ianto sighed and slammed the folder shut. Jack had left that last part out.

Instead of putting the file back where it belonged, Ianto slid it between two volumes of some ancient Greek language books that were on the bottom shelf of the bookcase next to him, and headed up to the main level, intending to go outside. He needed some fresh air and space to think. Grabbing his jacket off the coat rack, Ianto silently exited the Hub through the tourism office, managing to slip unseen by Tosh and Owen who were working on something in the autopsy bay.

Outside the sky was overcast. Ianto wandered to the southwestern end of the large oval park, standing at the end opposite the large water sculpture that marked the other entrance to the Hub.

A few minutes later he saw Owen and Tosh ascend on the elevated pad then walk off towards the shops. Leaning back against the metal rail that overlooked the water of Cardiff Bay, Ianto watched the other afternoon shoppers stroll by, not a care in the world. Some were hand in hand, lovers spending time together, some were families with small children, some were alone. A stiff breeze began to pick up, blowing a cold draft in from the bay.

Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, Ianto saw Gwen and Rhys walking hand in hand towards the water sculpture. Gwen was holding on to him tightly, her free hand gripping Rhys’s upper arm. They were smiling and laughing. They looked happy.

The black hole that had opened up in the moment he’d realized Jack had gone seemed to grow in size at the sight of them, quickly swallowing up any good feelings he’d been harboring. Watching them with resentment, he felt his stomach clench as they kissed, then Rhys walked off towards the main road and Gwen started towards Ianto; likely heading towards the Hub entrance at the tourism office. Turning on his heels quickly, Ianto headed back into the Hub just ahead of her.

“Ianto, I haven’t seen you all day,” Gwen came in a few minutes behind Ianto. She took off her jacket and hung it next to Ianto’s. There was an air of lightness around her, and Ianto a surge of jealous anger that her life had seemingly returned to normal.

“Gwen.”

“You’ve been working in the archives all day?” Gwen asked, waking up her computer and checking the rift.

“Yeah,” Ianto answered. He wanted to leave, to get away from her, but something in him wouldn’t let his legs listen to his brain. He stood rooted to the spot, watching Gwen move around so freely, without a care in the world it seemed.

“Well,” she turned to him grinning and Ianto felt a scream form in his throat. “Since you weren’t around this morning when I shared the news with Owen and Tosh, let me tell you now.”

Gwen flashed her hand in Ianto’s face and grinned even wider.

“Rhys asked me to marry him last night,” she positively beamed and for a moment Ianto felt a wave of happiness for her, though that was quickly replaced by resentment. Suddenly, Ianto was furious at her.

She was acting so normal, so happy. As if she’d forgotten that Jack was gone; as if she didn’t know that she’d stolen any last moments he might have had with him with her greedy neediness of Jack. He wanted to lash out, scream at her. But he didn’t. Instead he forced a tight smile and nodded.

“Congratulations,” he added, swallowing the hurtful things he wanted to yell and feeling anything but joyful and congratulatory.

“What is it?” Gwen, apparently not completely oblivious seemed to sense something was up. Her expression morphed from happy to concerned which enraged Ianto even further.

“Nothing,” he turned to retreat to Jack’s office but stopped. She would follow him there he was sure, and he was suddenly unwilling to share any part of Jack with Gwen. Even though he was gone, and even though Ianto was so very angry and disappointed with him.

“Ianto,” Gwen’s hand gripped his elbow and that was when he lost all control.

“It’s your bloody fault!” Ianto spun on his heels and yelled into Gwen’s shocked face.

“What? What is my-,” she started.

“Just shut up!” Ianto gripped his hair in his hands, pulling it out of its neat, styled coif. “I didn’t get to say goodbye! Because of you!”

The cog door rolled open then and Tosh and Owen, laughing about something, their arms louded with bags and supplies, stopped in their tracks.

“Ianto,” Gwen backed away, her hands up defensively.

“I wanted to sit with him too, I wanted to say goodbye too, but you wouldn’t fucking leave! You stole that from me and now he’s gone and he’s not coming back and I didn’t get to say-,” Ianto stopped himself before he said too much. He could feel his face, hot and red, pulsing with each beat of his heart.

“I don’t-,” Gwen’s eyes welled up as she looked to Tosh and Owen for help.

“Forget it. Leave me the fuck alone,” Ianto grabbed his coat from the rack once more and pushing past Owen and Tosh he raced out of the Hub.

He drove aimlessly for hours, until he couldn’t stand the vacant hunger in his stomach any longer. He wasn’t sorry for yelling at Gwen. She needed to know that she wasn’t the only one who cared about Jack; who had wanted just one private moment with him. She needed to know that just because her life was moving forward that not everyone was in a happy place.

Exhausted from his emotional outburst, Ianto climbed the stairs to his flat and was surprised to find Tosh sitting on the floor outside his door waiting for him.

“What,” Ianto mumbled as he slid his key into the lock, leaving the door open behind him as entered. He watched Tosh hover outside in the hall for a moment, before coming in behind him and closing the door.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sounding a bit hesitant.

“Yeah, bloody brilliant,” he replied sarcastically.

“Okay. Stupid question,” Tosh laughed nervously.

Ianto didn’t reply as he moved to the kitchen, pulled open the freezer and took out a frozen pizza.

“It’s okay to be mad,” Tosh said, still sounding unsure, cautious.

“I mean, it’s obvious you care a lot about Jack,” her eyes were slightly wide and her skin a bit paler than usual.

He finally understood why Tosh was here. She was trying to comfort him on the loss of his lover. Because that’s what Jack was, or had been, even if no one had known about it until recently; until today. Ianto almost appreciated the gesture; better late than never he supposed.  If only the bitter anger in his gut would leave.

“Cared, past tense,” he replied, fighting hysterical laughter trying to bubble up his throat, “Jack’s gone.”

“Okay. Cared,” she acquiesced.

“How long?” she asked after a pause, a little bit of color rising in her cheeks. If Ianto hadn’t felt so angry and depressed he might have laughed at how uncomfortable she seemed, asking him about his relationship with Jack.

“A few months now,” Ianto answered flatly, busying himself with getting the pizza into the oven. He was tired of pretending, and it was exhausting putting on the front. Still he felt a slight moment of panic when he verbally acknowledged the relationship out loud. It was one thing to have people know about it and another to actually talk about it himself. He glanced at Tosh to gauge her reaction.

“Months,” Tosh smiled warmly, “I thought there seemed to be something different about both of you. You seemed happier, and Jack was more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.”

Ianto, for the first time since before everything with Billis happened, felt a small bit of warmth spread through his chest. Remembering Jack and their journey was wonderful, if not sad and a bit torturous, if only because there was so much they’d not done yet.

“Well, doesn’t matter now,” Ianto met Tosh’s gaze and felt a giant lump form in his throat. He hadn’t allowed himself to really mourn yet, relying instead on the anger. It was easier to embrace than the sadness. He was tired of being sad; he’d spent months being sad for Lisa, he didn’t have the strength to be sad for Jack, too. Now, looking at Tosh and talking about what he’d lost…it was almost too much.

“He’s gone,” Ianto repeated his voice thick as he tried to control his emotions which threatened to run away from him. He didn’t want to collapse in a heap of hysterics in front of Tosh, or anyone. He wanted to be strong, and survive this. Move past it and come out better on the other side – he just wasn’t sure how long it would be until he reached the other side, or how painful.

“He’ll be back,” she smiled and Ianto shook his head, cynically laughing the lump in this throat away.

“What makes you think that?”

Tosh didn’t answer, her smile faltering.

“Exactly,” Ianto sighed. He admired and respected her optimism, but Ianto couldn’t afford to think that way. To have it not come true would only break his heart again, and again, and again…

“Do you love him?” Tosh asked, causing Ianto to nearly drop the glass of water he was filling in the sink.

“Love?” Ianto laughed nervously, his stomach twisting painfully at the same time. He cared a lot about Jack. A lot more than he had anyone in a long time, but his feelings for Lisa were still fresh and while he thought he had been close to falling in love with Jack before things had gone bad, he now knew he wasn’t there yet.

“No. But I was close,” Ianto replied.

* * *

_”Yeah, cause you’re so in love with Rhys you spent half your time in Owen’s bed.”_

_Jack had tried to avoid thinking about Gwen. He’d managed it for months…but having exhausted thoughts of Tosh, and Owen, that left only Gwen and Ianto and for all he wanted to avoid thinking of Gwen, he wanted even more to avoid thinking of Ianto. And so he couldn’t do it anymore, avoid Gwen Cooper. Even though she wasn’t there she was still putting herself right in front of Jack as thoughts, memories, and what-if’s flooded his mind._

_Mostly he wondered if Gwen had gone to Owen’s bed because Jack hadn’t taken the next step with her. He knew she had feelings for him. It had been obvious from the first day they’d met in the way she’d looked at him.  Then there had been that kiss… After that, Jack had been surprised to find out that Gwen was in a relationship, and it was then that he’d felt the stirrings of a stronger attraction to her. It was only because he couldn’t have her – at least that’s what he told himself. It was now almost a challenge for Jack to tear her away from Rhys. Her relationship didn’t stop the longing looks that he sometimes caught on her face, and that she likely caught on his face too._

_She loved Rhys, though. At least she professed to._

_Jack made a decision then. If he got back he would make a move, take a chance. He needed to see what would happen; he needed to know if his feelings had any basis in real attraction, or if he was just desirous of her simply because he never could have her. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she accepted his advances, but he needed to find out._

_“Helloooo! Earth to Jack!”_

_The Master was standing before him, a perplexed expression on his face._

_“Thinking of home?” he frowned sarcastically and Jack had the urge to lunge forward and rip his throat out with his teeth._

_“Maybe you’re thinking of your dear team?”_

_Jack kept his expression calm, burying his emotions and trying to hide his rage._

_“Don’t worry. I took care of them all,” The Master grinned and Jack’s heart leapt up into his chest. Tosh…Owen…Gwen._

_Ianto._

_“What did you do?” Jack asked with controlled calmness, surprising even himself._

_The Master raised his eyebrows and grinned widely, brandishing a long, broadsword._

_“So I found this. It’s something new,” The Master pressed the tip of the sword under Jack’s chin, ignoring Jack’s question. There was a tiny prick of pain before the sword was thrust upwards._

_The last thing Jack saw before he died was The Master, laughing._

**Week Three…**

He felt almost normal again.

If not for the shadowy depths of Jack’s vacant office still as he’d left it, or the unused coffee mug on the shelf covered with a fine layer of dust, Ianto would almost think nothing had changed since his first day at Torchwood. It was easier now, at least. His new routine was beginning to replace the memories of his old one. But there were days when he’d look towards the office hoping to see Jack behind his desk, or his fingers would graze the dusty, unused mug pushed to the back of the shelf above the coffee maker and he’d remember. And he’d hurt all over again.

He tried to keep away from the places they’d been together. The wall of file cabinets in the archives was a strong reminder of the carefree times, and the quarters beneath Jack’s office a reminder of the intimate times. It was easy to avoid the bunk, but harder to avoid the archives. Ianto still had a job to do. So he’d started averting his eyes from that section of the archives when he went down there.

The pain lessened as the weeks passed, but it was still there nonetheless; now just a dull, empty ache instead of a piercing stab. He longed for the day when the pain was nothing more than a memory, when he could think of Jack and not feel sadness but instead be happy for the times they did have together. What he really wanted more than anything was just to know why. But as each day passed with Jack gone, learning the why of it seemed less and less likely.

Every day that passed with Jack gone also saw the others losing their hope that he would be back. Ianto tried not to feel bad for them. They’d show up each morning and he’d see their eyes move towards the dark office that their fearless leader used to inhabit, then their shoulders would fall slightly when they realized he was still gone.

Aside from that, it was easy to pretend things were fine again. He hid his pain as best he could. He could still see anger in Owen, and sometimes Tosh was unusually sad, and occasionally he’d catch Gwen staring into Jack’s office, her eyes wet with unshed tears. In those moments Ianto felt rage inside; specifically towards Gwen and towards Jack. But even those moments were becoming fewer.

There wasn’t much to do aside from hunting Weevils. The rift remained unusually calm which concerned Ianto if he thought about it too much, but they had only the most rudimentary understanding of the rift so there was no way to know if it was building up to another burst of aliens, or what.

One late afternoon, while Tosh and Gwen were out getting lunch, Ianto came into the main area of the Hub from the archives to find the lights on in Jack’s office. His heart leapt in his chest and took off, racing so fast he thought it would burst from his chest. His breath coming in gasps, Ianto nearly ran to the office. His mind raced with things he wanted to say to Jack, things he wanted to do to him. His groin ached with desire.

It wasn’t Jack, though. Ianto stood watching Owen rifling through Jack’s desk, panting and sweating as his adrenaline rush crashed down around him.

“What are you doing?” Ianto asked, feeling a swell of anger rising in him. Jack may not be here, but Owen had no right to touch all his things; to shuffle through his desk like he was doing.

Owen raised his head and eyed Ianto for a moment before he resumed his rummaging.

“Thinking of moving into the space,” he said, leaning down to slide open a desk drawer.

“Like hell you are,” Ianto replied, his heart pounding in his chest no longer because of anticipated excitement but because of fueled anger.

Owen stopped his searching and stood up, matching Ianto’s stare.

“Jack’s not using it,” Owen said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms, “why shouldn’t we spread out. And if you want it, too bad. First come, first served.”

Ianto opened his mouth to protest, but on what basis? They couldn’t keep the office a shrine, and they didn’t know if Jack would ever be back. Still it bothered Ianto to see Owen so thoughtlessly touching Jack’s papers, his books, his photos.

Owen moved to the other end of the desk and started pulling open drawers. They all seemed to be filled with paperwork. Ianto made a mental note to come back after the others had left to see what files Jack had been holding onto; what he’d been hiding.

The last drawer Owen tried to open was locked. Without a word or a glance at Ianto, Owen simply pulled out a knife and with a few jabs and pulls, broke the lock.

Ianto watched, his own curiosity getting the better of him, as Owen pulled open the drawer. He stared into it in silence for a few long minutes, before pulling it off its tracks and setting it on the desktop.

Ianto, still standing in the doorway, craned his neck to see what was in the drawer. When that didn’t afford him a good enough view, he swallowed his pride and walked to the desk, standing opposite Owen and staring down into a treasure trove of Jack’s personal items.

He saw the photo album he’d once seen Jack staring at; a framed photo of a dark-haired woman with a blond little boy; another framed photo of Jack with a group of men and women, standing in front of an odd background of what looked like large, glowing bubbles; there was a second Webley revolver; a velvet box that when opened revealed a WWII-era war medal; and one of Ianto’s ties.

There was more, but Ianto stopped looking after he saw his tie. He remembered losing it, the night he and Jack chased after the weevils at the shipyards. The night Ianto fell into the Bay. He’d taken off his tie on the drive back to the Hub, and he’d been unable to find it again after that night.

Silently, Ianto reached in and grabbed the tie. It was a little stiff from the salt water but still felt silky smooth as he ran it between his fingers. He forgot Owen was standing there as he wrapped it around his hand and closed his eyes, imagining Jack grabbing him by said tie and pulling him to him, greeting him with an open mouthed kiss that would quickly lead to something more…

“Ianto?”

Owen’s voice drew Ianto out of his daydream. It was only then that he realized his eyes were wet, and a single, silent tear slid down his cheek.

“Been looking for this,” Ianto tried to cover, knowing it was too little too late but not really caring.

“Right,” Owen nodded, his expression unusually sympathetic. The two men stared at the desk and the drawer contents for several minutes before Owen spoke.

“Probably best to leave this place as it is for now,” Owen picked up the drawer and slid it back into its place. The lock, now broken, really wasn’t even necessary. No one would be back.

Ianto stood at Jack’s desk as Owen moved quickly to the door.

“I’m sorry, Ianto,” he paused at the door. Ianto could see him out of the corner of his eye; his hands in his pockets and his shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. “You know, for Jack and…,” he shrugged and looked out into the Hub before speaking again.

“Well, for a lot of things.”

Ianto nodded, fighting back another wave of emotion. He barely noticed Owen leave, and by the time Tosh and Gwen were back he had retreated to the Archives. The tie still wrapped around his hand.

* * *

_”Ianto, hiding his cyber girlfriend in the basement, your three comrades here pumped bullets into her, remember?”_

_He’d been nearly a year chained up, tortured, and repeatedly killed by The Master, yet none of that was as painful as thinking about Ianto, and the horrible things he’d said to him that he hadn’t been able to apologize for._

_It was easier thinking about the others; even Gwen. But Ianto was different. Sometime in the last months of their relationship things had started to change between them. It wasn’t just fooling around and sex (which was amazing, Jack had to admit) anymore, but somewhere in the midst of that Jack had unknowingly opened up a tiny piece of his heart and allowed Ianto to slip in. He refused to label it, the feelings he had; he knew it wasn’t love – at least not yet. He’d felt that before. But it was also more than just caring about him. It was the in-between. The stuff that allowed people to fall in love. Jack didn’t necessarily want or need the end result, but that didn’t stop him from wanting all the things that led up to it. The desire to see Ianto, to talk to him, to be with him physically. The need to keep him safe, to protect him. To make sure he was alright._

_Jack was certain Ianto was not alright. He was probably dead, if the ominous things The Master kept saying to him were true. Or he might be alive, but alone down on the surface and hurt that Jack had simply abandoned him without a single word. He’d intended to have The Doctor return him to the moment he’d left, so the others would never realize he’d gone and if they managed to get out of the mess they were in he still hoped for that resolution; but that didn’t stop the current timeline from playing out. Even if Jack returned to the point in time when he’d left, and no one was the wiser – he would still know that in another timeline he’d caused this hurt, and he promised himself he’d do what he could to make it up to all of them. Especially Ianto._

_Jack heard the footsteps before he saw the faces. Right on time, he thought with resignation._

_“Hello Jack,” The Master, flanked by the same three men that came with him every day, smiled._

_“I have something new for you today.”_

_Jack gritted his teeth as he waited for some new torture, hopeful that death would be quick._

_Watchful eyes on The Master, he was surprised when he didn’t reveal a weapon, but a folder._

_“I thought you’d like to know the fates of your friends,” The Master bounced on his toes, obviously giddy with bringing this information to Jack and for that, Jack felt his heart break in his chest._

_“Tosh and Owen, mauled by a large gang of Weevils,” The Master held a gruesome photo up for Jack to see, “I heard there were over thirty of them. Quite the mess.”_

_Before he could close his eyes and turn his face away his brain was branded with the image of bloody, dismembered bodies, unrecognizable as they lay in a giant pool of blood and guts and other fluids._

_“Oh no. You have to see the rest,” The Master said in a low voice. Jack felt strong hands grip his head and force his eyes open._

_Flashing his teeth, The Master winked at Jack then held up the next photo._

_“Gwen Cooper, shot in the head during a car-jacking. It happened during the afternoon rush hour. Quite tragic.”_

_Jack, unable to look away, saw Gwen’s lifeless body on the asphalt, a pool of blood circling her head like a hellish halo._

_“Please,” Jack whispered, feeling his eyes grow wet, knowing whose photo was next._

_“Please? So polite, Jack!” The Master pulled out one more photo but before showing it to Jack, he stared at it with a smile._

_“This is…well, I’m proud of this one,” The Master raised his eyes to Jack, seeming to feed off the fear and anxiety that Jack was now unable to hide._

_He didn’t want to see…he didn’t want to see…he didn’t want to see…_

_“Ianto Jones,” The Master flashed the last photo before Jack and it was as if he had been gut-punched. All the air left his lungs and he let out a low moan._

_A group of men dressed in blood-stained camouflage, their faces streaked with blood like it was war-paint, stood around the naked, lifeless body of Ianto. He was strung up by his feet, his body bloody and bruised and damaged almost beyond recognition. Jack imagined every possible horror that he’d endured by the men who surrounded him._

_“The hunt went lasted nearly a day,” The Master’s voice spoke excitedly from behind the image, which he kept at Jack’s eye-level, “the boy lasted longer than any others had before him. But in the end he was caught. They always are. These men, they were so glad for the sport. They took their time with him. Had their way, honed their skills. I have it on video.”_

_The picture dropped then, just as parallel tears fell from Jack’s eyes._

_“But we’ll save that for another day,” The Master was no longer smiling, or trying to hide his menace._

_He turned on his heels then, and the men who had been holding Jack’s head let go and followed him out. There would be no death today because this knowledge was worse than death for Jack; and The Master knew it._

_Jack didn’t bother to try and keep his composure as he let his chin drop to his chest. His body racked with sobs as he mourned his team, his friends, his lover._

**Week Four _…_**

“A fish?”

Gwen looked at Ianto with a furrowed brow, her cell phone pressed to her ear.

“Okay. Right, we’re on it.”

Hanging up the phone, Gwen stood silent for a moment.

“So, there’s a fish-man loose,” she finally said, her voice betraying her disbelief.

“A fish-man,” Owen repeated, dead pan.

“In a red sports car,” Gwen added.

 “This job never ceases to amaze me,” Owen replied, shaking his head.

“Have you got a location?” Tosh’s fingers went flying over her keyboard.

“Near downtown,” Gwen replied, moving to stand behind Tosh. Ianto and Owen followed suit.

The CCTV cameras for the area flashed live onto Tosh’s screen and they all scoured the passing traffic, looking for a fish-man, driving a red sports car.

“So, this might not be the best time to mention this, but Jack and I went after this thing a few months ago,” Ianto said. Immediately he felt three pairs of eyes turn to him. “I mean, I am assuming it’s the same one.”

“What? When?” Gwen asked, a slight edge to her voice.

“Christmas,” Ianto replied. He saw Owen smirk and shake his head.

“So that’s what it was,” he said, giving Ianto a hard stare. Ianto ignored him even as he felt a heated blush rise up from his collar.

“What what was?” Tosh asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Owen brushed aside Tosh’s question and turned back to the screen, “so you obviously didn’t take care of it.”

“Obviously,” Ianto replied, remembering how he’d thought, at the time, that they should have warned the others.

“What’d you learn about it?” Gwen asked. Ianto thought she sounded odd; her voice was slightly high-pitched and thick, and her face wore a peculiar expression.

“Nothing,” Ianto shrugged, “we never could find it.”

“Great,” Owen threw up his hands, “why even mention it, then?”

Ianto didn’t answer.

“Got it!” Tosh exclaimed and the others turned their attention from Ianto to the screen. They saw a red convertible fly through an intersection, a distinctly fish-headed humanoid driving.

“Wow,” Gwen shook her head.

“It’s heading north,” Tosh’s fingers flew over the keyboard and a map with projected routes flashed up on her laptop. She stood, grabbed the computer and the bag which held her other technical devices and turned to the others, “we should go.”

“Right, Owen, Tosh, get the SUV ready,” Gwen took control immediately, “we’ll be right behind you.”

Ianto saw Owen and Tosh exchange a curious glance before they gathered up their things and headed towards the underground parking structure where the SUV was parked.

The Hub was momentarily silent in their wake, save for a slow, steady drip of water.

“Uh, Ianto,” Gwen turned, moving to stand in front on Ianto, her expression earnest, “I feel like I need to apologize to you.”

“For what?” Ianto shook his head.

“Well,” she paused, looking down at her wringing hands, “for Jack?”

“Jack?” Ianto repeated. He felt almost normal again, his anger towards Gwen faded more as each day passed without Jack.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t know. I had no clue,” Gwen sighed and moved to the tattered sofa where she lowered herself.

Ianto didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure exactly what Gwen meant.

“Since Christmas? Really?” She asked, her voice taking on that odd, thick sound again. Suddenly Ianto understood. Gwen was finally realizing exactly how long he and Jack had been…well…cavorting together.

“Since Suzie, actually,” Ianto replied, staring at her, feeling perversely pleased that his outburst two weeks prior now had a reference point for Gwen. He was glad she was finally realizing the depths of the disappointment he still felt at the lost time, the lost moments.

“Suzie the second time,” he clarified with a slight shrug.

“Suzie,” Gwen whispered, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Ianto, I…,” she looked up at him, her wide eyes brimmed with tears.

Unsure how he was expected to respond, Ianto just stood there. He really didn’t feel angry anymore; just sad. But he also wasn’t ready to offer Gwen forgiveness, because a small part of him was still holding on to the anger as a lifeline.

“We should get going,” Ianto prompted her, the conversation making him uncomfortable. He was too used to keeping everyone, but Gwen especially, at a distance that he wasn’t sure how to respond to her.

Gwen blinked her eyes and two fat tears slid down her cheeks. Nodding, she wiped her face on her sleeves before she moved towards him.

“I am really sorry,” she smiled sadly at Ianto, before slipping on her jacket and heading out to the SUV.

Ianto waited for a few moments, letting Gwen get ahead of him. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he slowly exhaled while regaining control of his emotions before he met the others at the vehicle.

* * *

_The Doctor tried to get Jack back to the moment he’d left. But of course, he overshot, by one month._

_“Just be glad your team is still alive,” The Doctor had said when Jack had started whining about the lapse in time. It was a valid point. Jack would rather take his team alive one month later, then dead one year later._

_The Hub was empty when Jack burst in. He was anxious to see them all, to make sure they were all alive. Jack saw the SUV tracking system up on Tosh’s screen and with a quick glance at their location, Jack took off after his team._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you remember from Doctor Who, the Doctor mentions that he, Jack, and Martha's family all remember the alternate timeline (the year The Master held them hostage) because of their proximity to the event on the Valiant. 
> 
> We also never really know how long Jack is gone, only that it is apparently for a significant time as the team has a slightly new dynamic as seen in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. I decided to go with one month, because it's long enough to be significant and to allow the characters to mourn and start to heal.


	14. Pinata Novia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.

_“Looking through eyes that wept_   
_I confessed my love_   
_and as you slept I asked for help from above_   
_I said the strength of my affection_   
_has taken all my time_   
_like an hourglass, my heart fills up_   
_but I’m losing my mind over you”_

 "So strange," Ianto said in a quiet voice, breaking the odd silence that had settled between the two men. They were walking together, having just left the Hub through the tourism office on their way to dinner.

 "What?" Jack asked, glancing sideways at the younger man.

 "That," Ianto pointed to the exterior wall they were passing. It was plastered top to bottom with "Vote Saxon" posters. "He was everywhere for months and months. I was going to vote for him. Then he just disappeared. It's strange."

 Jack nodded, forcing a smile as a lump formed in his throat constricting his ability to speak.

 Picking up the pace slightly, Jack suddenly needed to get those damn posters out of his sight. Thinking about that psychopath made him sick; made all the invisible scars from his year on the Valiant tingle with painful sensations. 

 Jack glanced sideways at Ianto once more. He felt a little desperate to drink in the sight of the younger man. He looked quite handsome in his suit and necktie; still put together even after the long day they’d had running around after that damned scoundrel John Hart. 

 It had been a blessing in disguise, coming back to an active case. It had allowed for distraction, a means for Jack to avoid giving any details to the difficult questions like where he’d been for the last four weeks. It had allowed for Jack to gauge the condition of his team; to see how mad, or sad, or disappointed, they were in him. It had allowed for Jack to create a feasible story in his head. One he could tell that wouldn’t be entirely the truth, but that also wouldn’t be outright lies.

 Over the course of the last day Jack had watched his team run like a well-oiled machine and he couldn’t help but feel proud; and responsible. They had all grown so much in the weeks he’d been gone. Ianto especially had changed. He appeared more confident and sure of himself, and he asserted himself with the others in a way that frankly, turned Jack on.

There was also a new sense of camaraderie between the team that Jack couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy about; he wanted to be included. He knew eventually they’d let him back in, but after the disappearing act he’d pulled he knew he had to be patient and understanding of their desire to keep a slight distance from him; at least for the moment. But it was torture, more so each time he looked at Ianto. All he wanted to do was put his hands on him. Touch him, stroke him, kiss him. Rip off his clothes and fuck him hard. He ached for it. They were so close to each other, yet he still felt so far away.

“Where’re we going?” Ianto asked, distracting Jack as they strolled past the water sculpture and down a side street.

“It’s a surprise,” Jack winked, trying not to feel disappointed when all he got in response was a small, tight-lipped smile.

 _I can’t expect things to be just like they were before I left,_ Jack thought as he tried to suppress his frustration. He could only imagine the level of betrayal and feelings of abandonment Ianto must be dealing with. But he obviously still cared; he did agree to this date, after all.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it,” Jack added, as he turned off the side-street and led them down a narrow alley.

“I never noticed this before,” Ianto said as they walked deeper into the dimly-lit alley.

Jack smirked into the dark as he led them towards a low, orange glow emanating from an open doorway at the far end of the alley.

“Jack,” Ianto’s voice was hesitant. His hand reached out and grasped Jack’s arm, bringing them both to a stop a few feet from the doorway. Jack could hear the soft music playing inside, and the smell of the exotic Indian food made his mouth water in anticipation.

“It’s okay,” Jack smiled, “I’ve been here before. There’s no need to worry.”

“That’s not it,” Ianto’s face was screwed up tight in an expression Jack couldn’t read. Suddenly afraid, Jack placed his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

“What?”

“You just left,” Ianto blurted and Jack felt all the air in his lungs escape as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

“Ianto,-”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this. I thought I could but…”

Ianto pulled back and Jack, unwilling and unable to force Ianto to do anything he didn’t want to do, reluctantly let him go.

“I’m sorry too,” Jack whispered, watching Ianto walk away and disappear from view as he turned out of the alley.

  
 ** _****_ **   


He knocked again. Pressing his ear against the cool metal of the door, he sighed. He could hear muted sounds from the other side.

 “Ianto, I can hear you moving around in there,” Jack called softly, once more rapping his knuckles lightly on the door.

 “Please open the door.”

 When he heard the lock mechanism turn, he stepped back. He’d let Ianto walk away from their date, but after an hour of wandering around the Bay with nothing but his thoughts to distract him, Jack couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to see him; to talk to him; to try and explain as best he could. He had to make Ianto understand and forgive him, somehow.

 “It’s late,” Ianto’s tired face peered out from the door.

 “Let me in,” Jack gently pushed against the door, forcing it open another few inches. He watched as a rainbow of emotions crossed Ianto’s face in that moment. Stubborn resistance gave way to anger which turned into surrender. Jack pushed the door all the way open as Ianto sighed heavily and stepped back, giving Jack silent permission to enter the flat.

 “I need to clear the air,” Jack closed the door behind him, “I need to explain.”

 “You did explain,” Ianto crossed his arms and stared at Jack. Jack could practically see the defensive wall going up before his very eyes.

 “You found your Doctor,” Ianto added, shrugging. Jack sensed that Ianto’s ambivalence was a mask and he couldn’t blame the younger man for being distrustful. He’d gone through a lot since coming to Cardiff and Jack’s behavior in the last few days before he’d left with the Doctor hadn’t exactly inspired anyone on his team to believe in anything he might have to say.

 “Yes,” Jack, frustrated, raked his hands through his hair, causing it to stand up on end.

 “Sit,” Jack reached out and grabbing Ianto by the shoulders, moving him to the couch. With a slightly resentful look, Ianto sat and stared up at Jack expectantly.

 “I don’t know where to start,” Jack smiled nervously.

 “How about starting with how it is you don’t stay dead?” Ianto responded and Jack couldn’t help but flinch at his accusing tone.

 “Okay,” Jack nodded, and started talking.

 He told Ianto everything, starting with his first meeting with the Doctor and Rose in London during the Blitz and ending with an abbreviated version of what had happened while he’d been gone.

 “A year?” Ianto, who had listened to Jack’s entire story without comment, questioned. “You were prisoner for a whole year? And this Saxon guy was really an alien? Like your doctor friend?”

 “A Time Lord,” Jack nodded, his senses heightened as he watched Ianto try to process all he’d been told. For Jack, it had been cathartic to just tell his story. He felt lighter; freer.

 “Right. A Time Lord,” Ianto nodded. “That’s quite a story.”

 Jack sighed.

 “It’s true,” he said softly, pleading with his eyes for Ianto to believe him. He’d left out the torture and multiple deaths and he hadn’t told of what the Master had done to Ianto and the others in the alternate timeline. There was no need to burden Ianto with that information. Jack was happy to carry that on his own, as a reminder.

 “I know,” Ianto replied with his own soft sigh.

 Jack slowly moved towards the sofa, having been standing before Ianto as he’d told his story. Sitting next to the younger man, Jack placed a hand on Ianto’s knee, stroking his thumb across the cap.

 “What about John Hart,” Ianto didn’t look at Jack when he brought up the man that had spent the last day wreaking havoc on the team.

 “John Hart is someone from my past. From the Time Agency. We were friends once,” Jack reached out and turned Ianto’s face to him. “We were more than friends, for a time, but it was a relationship of convenience. I never would have left with him, because this is my home now.”

 Jack couldn’t read the expression on Ianto’s face, and he wished the younger man would just talk to him.

 “I don’t know what to think,” Ianto said, finally.

 “We have time to work this out. I’m not going anywhere,” Jack leaned in and placed his lips on Ianto’s. There was some resistance at first, but as Jack gently pressed his lips and worked his tongue out to coax Ianto’s lips apart, the younger man started to respond.

 Jack let his hand slowly move up Ianto’s thigh while his other hand gripped the back of Ianto’s neck. The kiss was electric, and Jack felt his stomach knot and twist with anticipation and excitement as their kisses turned from soft and gentle to more hungry and passionate.

 Squeezing Ianto’s inner thigh, Jack’s hand moved towards Ianto’s crotch. Brushing his dick, Jack felt Ianto start at the touch. His cock growing hard in response, Jack traced his fingers up and down Ianto’s hardening shaft. Breaths coming harder, Jack’s lips travelled across Ianto’s jaw and to the crook of his neck, nibbling on the sweet spot that he knew drove the younger man crazy. His fingers started to unbutton and unzip Ianto’s trousers.

 “Wait,” Ianto, panting and breathless, grabbed Jack’s hands and pushed them away. Pulling back, Jack met the younger man’s gaze. Ianto’s cheeks were flushed and Jack could see he was hard, his cock pressing against his trousers, undoubtedly uncomfortably tight.

 “I can’t,” Ianto averted his eyes from Jack and stood from the sofa.

 Jack nodded and the two men were silent for what felt like several minutes. Jack willed his erection to soften while he suspected Ianto of doing the same.

 “I don’t want to leave you,” Jack said finally.

 He stood and approached Ianto from behind, wrapping his arms around the other man’s torso as he pressed his lips to the nape of his neck.

 “We don’t have to do anything, just please don’t make me leave,” Jack whispered, holding on tight to the one person that had given him the strength and the will to fight as hard as he did to get back.

 Ianto gave no response for what felt like several minutes. Finally, Jack felt him nod and with a relieved sigh Jack hugged him tighter, relishing the feel of him and how they fit together so perfectly.

That night they slept together in Ianto’s bed. It was the first time Jack had stayed at Ianto’s and he had to admit, it was a lot more comfortable. They had fell asleep holding each other, and even though Ianto had a giant king size bed, most of it remained empty as the two men slept in each other’s arms through the night.

 Undoubtedly up at dawn, Ianto’s movements in his flat woke Jack from his sleep.

 “We should get to the Hub,” Ianto, already showered, shaved, and dressed, stood over Jack who was still half asleep and wearing only his boxer shorts.

 “Breakfast first?” Jack questioned just as his stomach rumbled. “I never did eat dinner. You see I had a hot date, but he abandoned me.”

 “Right,” Ianto offered a shy smile as he picked Jack’s clothes off the floor and threw them on the bed. “Get dressed and we’ll go get breakfast.”

 Jack grinned at Ianto’s back as the he turned and left the room. Jack could tell he was slowly breaking down that defensive wall and it made him giddy with hope.

 During breakfast, Jack pressed Ianto for details about the last four weeks. He was surprised to hear that there had been little action; that the rift had been essentially dormant. In all honesty, that worried Jack. Especially since his return had coincided with the first big, active leap in the rift. Really it had been John Hart actively using his wriststrap to travel through the rift but what if that had boosted the strength of the rift, and more things started coming through? Jack hated not knowing more about the damned thing. He kept his concerns to himself, though. Until he had something to report, he’d remain silent. He certainly didn’t want to panic the team.

 Jack and Ianto arrived at the hub before the others, much to Jack’s relief. He quickly changed his clothes while Ianto made coffee. When Jack emerged from his bunk wearing a clean button-down shirt and trousers, his blue and white striped mug was sitting on his desk steaming with fresh brew.

 “It’s nice to know some things don’t change,” Jack said to no one in particular.

 “What was that?” Ianto appeared in the office doorway and Jack grinned.

 “The coffee,” he inhaled the steam, then took a sip, “as good as I remember.”

 Jack moved out into the main area of the Hub. He heard Ianto shuffling behind him. Just then, the cog door rolled open and Owen came strolling in.

 “Morning Owen,” Jack sipped his coffee, nodding at Owen.

 “Coffee? You on that again?” Owen walked past them, leveling his eyes at Ianto before he went down into the autopsy bay and tossed his bag.

 Jack looked at Ianto with a questioning look.

 “I stopped making coffee for awhile,” Ianto shrugged.

 It really wasn’t a big deal, and Jack realized this. Yet for some reason, knowing that Ianto had stopped making coffee while Jack had been gone finally made him realize the actual effect his unexcused absence had had on him.

 Jack, cradling his mug like it was a delicate egg, approached Ianto and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

 “Oh God, please keep your fucking sex life out of the workplace,” Owen was at the top of the stairs that led up from the autopsy bay, a scowl on his face.

 Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto.

 “Everyone knows now,” Ianto shrugged again.

 Jack was startled, and a little guilty that his first thought was to wonder what Gwen’s reaction had been…

 “But just because we all now know doesn’t mean we want to see you hugging and kissing and being fucking romantic,” Owen grumbled.

 “Speak for yourself!” Tosh called as she came in through the door, grinning. “I think it’s sweet.”

 “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Owen rolled his eyes and Jack couldn’t help but laugh.

_“I’m sure that time’s gonna take its toll_   
_and I know that my tattooed heart_   
_may make you lose control_   
_but grab a hold of something_   
_preferably my heart_   
_oh and promise you won’t let it go_   
_and swear you’ll never part_

_away from me"_

**-Piñata Novia, by Steve Carlson**


	15. Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Sleeper.

“You had no choice,” Ianto stood behind Jack, his hands gently massaging the knots out of his shoulders and neck.

“If you hadn’t of shot her, I would have,” he added, “or Owen. Tosh.”

“I know,” Jack sighed. It still felt wrong, though. 

Jack had killed hundreds, if not thousands of people in his long, long life. But shooting Beth had hurt. He supposed it was because she’d done it on purpose, threatening Gwen. She knew they’d have to kill her. She’d known that she was no longer safe. She’d been compromised and she wasn’t really human. That had to be hard to learn. That, and having to live with the knowledge that she’d murdered her own husband.

Jack had loved and lost a lot of people in his lifetime but he’d never been the cause for their death, the one who’d pulled the trigger, so to speak. He hoped he’d never have to know what that felt like.

Jack reached a hand up to his shoulder and grasped Ianto’s hand. He said nothing; he had nothing to say. He just wanted, no, needed human contact. He needed Ianto.

“Will you stay tonight?” Jack asked, his thumb stroking the smooth skin of the back of Ianto’s hand.

“I…,” Ianto paused and Jack sensed him stiffen behind him.

“Sorry,” Jack released Ianto’s hand and stood, distancing himself from the younger man. “No pressure.”

Ianto nodded, the look on his face betraying his confusion.

“I should go,” he said, his voice soft. Before Jack could say anything more he was gone.

“Shit,” Jack sighed.

* * *

“Mornin’ Jack,” Gwen, all smiles, greeted Jack brightly as she came into the Hub the next morning. He bet she got lucky with Rhys last night – sex would be the only reason to be so happy after such a horrid day before.

“Gwen,” Jack hovered just inside the doors to his office, watching as she moved around the Hub. Ianto wasn’t in yet, so there was no coffee prepared. It was a little odd that he wasn’t there…Jack tried not to worry or obsess over it.

“Where’s Ianto?” Gwen came bounding up from the lower level, her empty coffee mug in hand and a questioning expression on her face.

“Not here,” Jack shrugged.

Gwen stood in front of him, her expression turning thoughtful. She stared at him for what felt like several long minutes. Jack was about to say something he might later regret when she finally spoke.

“You really hurt him, Jack,” she said.

“Excuse me?” Jack was taken aback. He knew the whole team was now in the know about their relationship, but to hear Gwen speak to him about it was…well…awkward. He didn’t mind people knowing and talking about the sex, but he certainly minded them knowing and talking about the emotions. What he and Ianto meant to each other was not for Gwen to say, or know, or certainly lecture.

“You hurt him. You can’t expect him to just fall right back into bed with you after what you did,” Gwen had her hands on her hips and if the fact that she was scolding Jack hadn’t been so shocking he might have laughed at her attempt to make him realize what he already knew.

“I know, Gwen,” he said, his voice an octave lower than usual. He would not defend himself to her – it was none of her damned business.

“Thank you for your concern,” Jack added with finality, turning his back to her and retreating to his desk where he absently shuffled paperwork while he tried to rationalize why it made him so uncomfortable to be getting a lecture from Gwen. After everything they’d all been through the last year, after all the looks and gestures and his practically admitting he was interested when he’d got back…she’d gone and flashed her ring in his face and now she was trying to tell him how to deal with Ianto?

“Fuck her,” Jack clenched his jaw as he leaned back in his chair, “and where the fuck is Ianto?”

A little while later he heard the clanging of the coffee maker and looking out the dingy window that afforded him a view of the Hub, he saw Ianto preparing brew.

Jack waited for Ianto to bring him his mug, steaming.

“You were late this morning,” Jack took the proffered mug but kept his eyes on Ianto.

“Overslept,” Ianto smiled. “It happens.”

“Sure,” Jack smiled back, the tightness in his gut that he hadn’t realized was there, released.

“Time,” Jack nodded and Ianto smiled a bit wider, backing out of the room and leaving Jack alone again, feeling a less unsure.

The team was called out to catch a pair of Weevils just before lunch. Jack, Gwen and Owen took on the job, leaving Tosh and Ianto to themselves in the Hub; Tosh working on some program and Ianto, inventorying the weapons cache.

* * *

 

He and Owen wrangled the weevils into the cell and when he returned to the Hub Jack found Ianto and Gwen laughing in the weapons cache. He watched them for a moment, noticing how Gwen touched his arm and the easy way they were with each other.

Jack waited for Gwen to leave before he entered the room where they kept the special weapons.

“Everything accounted for?” Jack asked, circling the island in the center of the room.

“Seems to be,” Ianto said, his eyes on the list he was making counts on.

Jack rounded the island and came to a stop next to Ianto.

“You and Gwen seem friendlier,” Jack said moving closer to Ianto, until their shoulders were just barely touching.

“I guess,” Ianto looked at Jack with amusement, before counting the handguns stacked on the island. “Only after I yelled and screamed at her for keeping me from you.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow at Ianto.

“When you were dead. I wanted to sit with you but she wouldn’t leave,” Ianto shrugged. “I was pissed off. Thought you were gone for good. You know.”

Jack nodded, smirking.

“She cornered me this morning. Gwen.” Jack turned sideways so he was facing Ianto. His left hand rested on Ianto’s forearm while he put his right hand on Ianto’s lower back. “Seems she took offense to my leaving having hurt you. She’s quite your defender.”

Jack let his right hand drop slowly, gently tracing his fingers along the curve of Ianto’s ass before he reached around his hip and came to rest at his crotch. Jack could feel Ianto, through his trousers, hard. Pressing his body closer and letting his own growing erection press against Ianto’s hip. Jack leaned closer and pressed his lips to Ianto’s ear.

“I know I said this before, but I’m sorry I hurt you,” Jack, who was being as sincere as he could, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Ianto’s hair, his teeth nibbling on his ear. His hand, resting at Ianto’s crotch, wanted desperately to reach in and free him but Jack resisted – making Ianto responsible for what happened next but hoping he’d accept Jack’s advances. It’d been so long since they’d been together, since Jack had been with anyone.

Jack could hear Ianto’s breathing quicken the longer Jack left his hand resting on his dick. Suddenly Ianto’s hand was on top of his, pressing him hard against his dick. Needing no further encouragement, Jack moved to stand behind Ianto, pressing his hard-on against the swell of Ianto’s ass while his hands worked to unbuckle and pull down Ianto’s trousers, freeing his stiff cock.

Jack placed one hand around the girth of Ianto while he let the other travel south to massage and stroke his scrotum and balls. Ianto immediately responded, leaning back into Jack, turning his head and searching for his mouth, kissing him hard while his hips thrust against the ministrations of Jack. He came fast and hard, his knees buckling. Jack had to release him to catch him and keep him from falling to the floor.

Jack held him tightly against his chest, burying his head at the nape of his neck while Ianto’s breathing settled. It must have been five minutes or more before Ianto straightened up and pulled away. Jack, still hard under his own trousers stepped back and let Ianto buckle himself closed.

Finally Ianto turned to face Jack, a teasing smirk on his face.

“What?” Jack questioned, behaving innocently and as if he didn’t know what Ianto thought he expected.

Ianto closed the short distance between them and placed his mouth on Jack’s while his hand came to rest on his cock.

“Ianto,” Jack breathed when Ianto moved his lips down his neck.

“Shut up,” Ianto replied, falling to his knees before Jack and freeing him. Jack groaned softly as Ianto’s mouth engulfed him. Soft, warm, wet, welcoming. Jack, suffering from a year of sexless living, came far too fast.

“I see you’ve missed me,” Ianto grinned while Jack buttoned himself back up.

“Fuck you,” Jack smiled. “You too, you know.”

Ianto shrugged and kissed him again, hard. 


	16. Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "To The Last Man".

The kiss he and Jack had shared stayed with Ianto all through the night and into the next day. They’d kissed many times before while at the Hub yet somehow this particular kiss had seemed to be laced with something more. Ianto had felt something deeper emanating from Jack, and it made him nervously excited.

All the talk of love, and time, and being with people…Ianto was left to wonder if Jack loved him? Or maybe Jack was beginning to love him? Ianto spent the entire day with a stomach full of knots, trying to make sure he did his job while at the same time considering all the implications and the meaning behind the words Jack had spoken and the way he’d kissed him.

That night Jack went home with Ianto. They were going to order Chinese food and watch a movie, but Ianto, who had been protecting himself by being emotionally reserved since Jack’s return, suddenly wanted nothing more than to make love all night long. Only this time he wanted Jack inside him.

At Ianto’s flat and before the door even closed behind them, Ianto grabbed Jack and threw him against the wall in the entryway, pressing his lips to him and forcing open his mouth with his tongue. There was maybe a split-second of apprehension from Jack (but Ianto wasn’t even sure he didn’t imagine it) before he was aggressively kissing him back. They were all lips and tongue and rough hands grabbing at clothes and stripping them away.

Ianto’s cock responded immediately, growing hard inside his trousers. Without a word, he pulled Jack into his bedroom and they commenced stripping down to nothing.

On the bed, their hands were all over each other. Neither man had been with anyone since the last time they’d been together – which aside from the quick hand job in the weapons cache, had been a few months for Ianto. He was horny as hell.

“I want you inside me,” Ianto panted, rolling to his back and bringing Jack with him. He could feel Jack’s cock hard against his thigh and he yearned for it to be inside him.

“Are you sure?” Jack grinned, his eyes questioning.

Ianto answered with a kiss, as his hand traveled down to grasp Jack, stroking him and pulling him.

“Yes,” he answered.

Jack nodded. Rising up on his hands he positioned himself between Ianto’s legs and with a grin he lowered his head and began sucking and kissing Ianto’s balls. Immediately Ianto responded, spreading his legs wider. He gasped out loud when Jack’s tongue moved from his scrotum to his ass. Warm and wet, Ianto felt Jack’s tongue lick all around his opening, then dart into him, preparing him. Jack’s strong hands grasped Ianto’s butt as he raised Ianto’s hips a few inches off the bed, his tongue and mouth attacking his hole and bringing about a whole new level of pleasure that Ianto hadn’t even known existed.

His muscles twitched while he tried to keep his hips elevated and control his breathing. He wanted to call out; to yell; to scream that fuck it all felt so damn good!

But he didn’t.

Jack, seeming to sense Ianto’s near loss of all control, pulled back and lowered him back down to the bed. He grabbed the lube that was always on the night stand and squirted a generous amount on his fingers, then began probing and fingering Ianto’s ass. After the feel of Jack’s mouth on him, the feel of his fingers was harsh, but no less pleasing. Ianto felt Jack slip a finger inside him, felt him working his hole wider.

God, it felt so good. Ianto kept his eyes on Jack, and Jack kept his eyes on Ianto. As his fingers worked their way inside, Jack leaned down and took Ianto’s swelling cock into his mouth. All the sensations he was feeling were nearly too much, and Ianto pulled Jack off him, pleading with his eyes for him to just do it.

Moving closer, Jack gripped his dick and pressed the tip to Ianto’s opening. He was so thick and hard, Ianto worried for a moment that he wouldn’t fit.

With a teasing grin and a wink Jack pushed in. He was so very slow to do it and Ianto bit his lower lip against the pain. His immediate reaction was to tighten up, and he felt Jack stop pushing when he did. Only partially inside him, Jack lowered his head and kissed Ianto, moving to whisper in his ear.

“Relax,” he murmured before moving his mouth to Ianto’s neck. It took him a few minutes, but slowly he talked his body into easing the tension, and he felt Jack start to push forward once again. It wasn’t as painful anymore; or maybe Ianto was adjusting to his presence. Finally Jack stopped pushing forward. He lay on top of Ianto, fully inside him but not moving, for several seconds.

“It’s okay,” Ianto whispered, Jack’s presence inside him full and hard. It was wonderful.

Jack stared at Ianto while he slowly pulled back, then pressed forward again; over and over. With each slow, deliberate thrust Ianto let out a low, guttural groan. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and his voice was not his own, his reactions almost primal. Panting, Ianto raised his hips to meet Jack’s movements, his breaths throaty as the pain disappeared and incredible pleasure like nothing he’d felt before replaced it.

“Fuck,” Ianto gasped. Jack was moving a little faster now and had one hand around Ianto’s cock, stroking him in time to his thrusts.

Shock waves of pleasure coursed through his body each time Jack moved inside him. Hands on Jack’s ass, Ianto pulled him down onto him, wrapping his legs around Jack’s back and trying to get him closer, trying to get more of him inside him.

Ianto didn’t want him to ever stop.

Jack responded to Ianto by moving faster, thrusting harder. Ianto felt him growing even bigger inside him.

The pleasure coursing through Ianto was constant and building. His cock was rock-hard and he worried that if he touched himself he would come immediately. The sensation of his cock trapped between their rocking bodies added to the mounting pleasure. He would come whether or not Jack touched him if they kept at it like this.

“Don’t stop,” Ianto groaned, receiving Jack fully and wondering why anyone would not want to be loved like this.

He moaned when Jack started moving even faster.

“I’m going to come,” Jack whispered in Ianto’s ear.

“Do it,” Ianto panted as he felt his own approaching orgasm.

Jack sat back, so he was on his knees once more. He was thrusting so fast now, tiny moans escaped from his lips as he gripped Ianto’s hips and rammed into him.

Throwing his head back, his body shuddered and Ianto felt a wet warmth shoot inside him, trickling through him. Above him, Jack had his eyes closed and a smile on his face as he continued to move inside Ianto, riding the waves of his orgasm.

Then he was looking down at Ianto, and his hand was on Ianto’s dick, and then Ianto was coming too. Jack, still hard, still inside him, and still moving, pumped his hand up and down the length of Ianto as his hips bucked with release and orgasm. The feel of Jack inside him, and the feel of his hand on him, gave Ianto the most intense orgasm he had ever had.

When he was done Jack stayed inside him, sticky and semi-hard, as he flopped down on top of Ianto. They were quiet for awhile, simply lying there.

“It’s not fair, is it,” Ianto said suddenly, his voice quiet. Jack’s body was heavy on top of him, but also comforting in its weight.

“What,” Jack leaned up on an elbow, looking at Ianto with curiousity.

“Time,” Ianto sighed. What had happened with Tosh and Tommy had stirred up feelings in Ianto; regarding Lisa, and Jack, and everything that had happened in the last six months.

Jack was silent, his expression sad.

“No, it’s really not,” he finally answered, pulling away from Ianto and rolling off him. Immediately Ianto felt his absence, and wanted him back inside him.

“Toshiko deserves to be loved,” Jack added, his hand searching for Ianto’s as they lay side by side.

“So do you,” Ianto replied, glancing at the Captain. Jack didn’t say much about his past, only vague references and allusions to tragedy and pain. Ianto wanted so badly for Jack to open up to him – to share some of that pain and to allow himself to heal.

 Jack grinned, eliciting a chuckle.

“Ianto Jones,” Jack growled as he pulled Ianto to him, kissing him and rousing him once more.


	17. Round And Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between MEAT and ADAM

When Ianto came back into Jack’s office, he found him sitting in his desk chair staring at a black screen on one of the monitors that sat behind his desk.

“Crap day, yeah?” Ianto asked as he slowly approached the desk. There were so many questions swirling around in his head he was having a hard time keeping them straight. The last few days had been revealing, and frustrating, and confusing.

“What? Yeah,” Jack, his thoughts apparently somewhere else as well, gave Ianto a stiff smile.

“It’s never fun to fail at helping,” Jack added, “and unfortunately I’m all too familiar with the feeling.”

Ianto nodded, watching Jack as he turned slowly in his chair, resting his elbows on the desktop and his head in his hands.

“Tired?” Ianto questioned, moving to sit in one of the vacant chairs opposite Jack.

Jack simply sighed and leaned back in his chair, nodding.

“Everyone gone?” he asked. Ianto nodded, noticing the lines around Jack’s eyes appeared deeper, suddenly.

The two men sat quietly together for several long minutes. Ianto could feel Jack watching him when he looked away, but he never caught him actually looking.

“Jack,” Ianto started, his stomach a rumbling ball of nerves, “What are we, exactly?”

Jack looked at Ianto, confusion apparent on his face.

“To each other. What are we?”

Jack was silent.

“Am I just a shag? A convenient fuck? Or are we something more? What?” Ianto pressed, beginning to feel frustrated and used and the longer Jack stared at him silent the more frustrated and used Ianto felt.

“What’s bringing this on?” Jack asked, clearly avoiding the question.

Ianto laughed bitterly causing Jack to raise his eyebrows. Ianto wondered if the man ever gave a straight answer because right now it seemed like all he was doing was giving Ianto the run-around. With a slight shake of his head he sighed before speaking.

“Tosh said something, right before Rhys showed up. About how maybe the key to not being alone is to be with someone who knows what we do, what Torchwood does. Someone we can talk to and be honest with. Someone who would understand the long hours and late nights and all that.”

“It got me to thinking; and she’s right,” Ianto leveled his eyes at Jack.

“I had that with Lisa. And now with you...,” Ianto paused, nervous, “with you I’m not sure,” he leaned back against the chair and crossed his arms, feeling exposed and vulnerable in addition to frustrated and used. Jack could, if he wanted, really hurt Ianto with the words he might choose to speak and that was the most frightening thing of all. The two men had each kept their feelings for each other mostly hidden, but now Ianto was choosing to speak out, to try and find out what Jack thought and felt.

“If I’m just a shag, I’d like to know. You asked me out on a proper date after you came back, but things have been a little busy around here and we haven’t gone out.  I mean, we tried one time but since then, nothing. I just wonder…”

“I thought we were fine,” Jack answered and Ianto sighed.

“I just want to know what this is. I need to know what I should expect from you. If it’s just sex, or if it’s more…,” Ianto twisted his hands together in his lap waiting for Jack to make any acknowledgement one way or the other.

They sat in awkward silence for several minutes. Ianto began to feel like he should leave, storm out and make Jack chase after him but he was pretty sure Jack wouldn’t do that and Ianto wanted answers more than he wanted to prove a point. They had been tiptoeing around this long enough.

“Everyone has been giving me a hard time about you lately,” Jack said quietly, once again avoiding the specific question.

“Well, Gwen and Tosh anyway,” Jack added and Ianto raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t know what to tell you!” Jack exclaimed as he stood from behind his desk, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing around the room. Ianto remained seated, staring at the blotter on Jack’s desk, listening to the heavy footfalls as they moved the length of the room behind him.

“I’ve told you things. Things I’ve never told anyone. I’ve grown closer to you the last year than I’ve been to anyone in a very long time,” Jack emphasized the last three words as his pacing brought him to a rest just behind Ianto.

 “I guess-,” he started, but paused. Ianto could hear him breathing.

He waited for Jack to say something that let him know how he felt, that was something more than just insinuations and implications of feelings. Ianto needed to know that he wasn’t alone in this, that Jack needed him as much as he was realizing he needed Jack.

“When I thought they were going to shoot you, I-,” Jack spoke taking Ianto by surprise with his words.

Sitting up and unfolding his arms, Ianto turned in the chair to look at Jack. He was standing a few feet behind him with hands still in his pockets but his eyes had a faraway look to them.

“I was terrified. I was fucking terrified that they would kill you and I would be alone again,” Jack said slowly.

“While I was held captive by the Master, thinking of all of you was what kept me sane. Thinking that I could come back and repair the wrongs I’ve committed, make up for my shortcomings as a friend and as a leader. I haven’t really succeeded in that.  Then when you were being held at gunpoint I felt this incredible panic in my chest...”

Jack finally moved his eyes to meet Ianto’s. Stepping forward, he knelt at the chair, his hands gripping the back.

“I hate labels, especially when it comes to things like this,” Jack motioned with his hand between himself and Ianto.

“And I thought you knew how I feel about you. I mean, I thought I’d showed you how I feel about you,”

“What about Gwen,” Ianto said calmly. He wasn’t an idiot, or blind, or even deaf. He could see that Jack was enamored of her; he had hoped it was only a case of wanting what he couldn’t have, but after what he’d said to her in the Hub tonight, right before she’d left with Rhys…he wasn’t so sure anymore.

And as for Gwen; she could profess all she wanted that she loved Rhys more than anything but actions speak louder than words and Ianto knew she wasn’t above cheating. He knew what had happened between her and Owen. What was to stop her from deciding she wanted more than to just swoon over Jack? If either of them showed the other that they were willing to go that far, the other would certainly take the chance.

Ianto needed to know that it wouldn’t go that far, that no matter what Gwen might do or say that he wouldn’t forsake the bond Ianto felt they were forming just for the conquest.

“What about Gwen?” Jack asked and Ianto laughed bitterly.

“Right,” he nodded, standing up from the chair, “I should go.”

Ianto walked slowly to the door, willing Jack to come after him, to declare that he had no interest in Gwen, that she really meant nothing. He got to the doors of Jack’s office unhindered. Turning to look at Jack he smiled sadly.

“Goodnight, sir.”

* * *

Loud pounding on his door woke Ianto up. Glancing at his bedside clock he saw it was nearly 4am. Groaning loudly, he rolled out of bed and stumbled, still half asleep, to the door. A look through the peephole revealed Jack.

Ianto slowly opened the door and stared at him with bleary eyes and a clouded, half asleep mind.

“Can I come in?” Jack asked stepping forward.

Ianto opened his door and motioned for Jack to enter.

“I’m so used to having you near me at night I had a hard time sleeping with you not there,” Jack smiled nervously.

“What do you want, Jack,” Ianto yawned, folding his arms over his bare torso.

“I want you to know that regardless of what you may think, I’m not going to chase after Gwen.”

Ianto nodded slowly.

“The thing is, Jack, I’m not sure I believe you,” Ianto sighed.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” Jack asked, taking a few steps towards him.

Shrugging, Ianto shook his head.

“I really don’t know.”

“I can’t make any promises because I don’t know what this is, either. All I know is right now I want you in my life. I hope that’s enough,” Jack added.

He kept moving closer until he stood nearly nose to nose with Ianto. His hands reached out and gently rubbed Ianto’s upper arms.

“Ianto,” Jack breathed, his eyes searching Ianto’s as his lips parted slightly. Slowly he leaned in, placing a kiss on Ianto’s lips.

He couldn’t resist Jack’s touch, no matter how hard he tried and he quickly met Jack’s advances, tabling their discussion for another day and just letting himself revel and live in the moment – under the touches and caresses of Captain Jack Harkness. 


	18. The Tape Measure, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TAKES PLACE BETWEEN ADAM AND RESET

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I apologize for the long drought with this fic. I have no excuses other than my Torchwood muse abandoned me. It's still not back to full force, but I hope in the next few months it does return. I can't promise I'll update as regularly as I have in the past, but know I haven't abandoned this fic, and I'm really trying to finish it for you all, and for myself! Thanks for reading!

Jack, the other-worldly man that he was, had a sort of vague recollection of the past two days. Not memories exactly, but feelings, intuition, a sense that something important had been realized but then forgotten. With that came the occasional flash of an image – a face he knew he should recognize and remember, but in the end he could never quite figure out who the young boy was. He also didn’t know how those images remained when everything surrounding them seemed to be missing because prior to the memory lapse he had no recollection of that boy or those images, so something obviously had happened to make them appear. He just had no clue what it was. Still he was thankful for the memories, brief and disjointed as they were – it was something at least. More than anyone else on the team could boast.

It didn’t sit well with him, the fact that two days were missing from their collective memory. He had to assume it was something they’d done to themselves, since they seemed to be the only ones suffering from the memory loss – and since the Hub video logs and security footage was also gone.

Jack didn’t like it, though. More importantly, he didn’t like the emotions that welled in him when the few images he could recall would suddenly appear in his head because in addition to the young boy there were a few others and specifically, one striking image of Ianto sobbing in his arms. It disturbed Jack. Ianto was one of the strongest men he knew, even after the whole Lisa debacle and so to have that memory (could it even be called a memory?) seared into his head was upsetting and strange. There was no context for it, and while Ianto seemed fine now, his memory of those days gone like everyone else’s, it was quite apparent something terrible had happened and Jack couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. There was no reason, no context, to think that way, but he did nonetheless.

What made it increasingly upsetting was he couldn’t identify what it was that had made Ianto feel that way. And Jack, who wanted nothing more than to heal whatever the wound, no matter if Ianto remembered it or not, was growing frustrated and irritable.

It had been easy at first – when the team had all “woken up”, no one able to recall the past few days; no one knowing how the security footage and all evidence of those days had been erased from the Hub computers.

But something else lingered in Jack’s mind. Not a memory but not a dream either – more of an emotion – but one linked to a memory that was just out of reach. A memory that he could not access no matter how hard he tried. It was something caught in a sort of limbo in Jack’s head, causing him to question its basis in reality.

Sand, and sun, and tears. Extreme sorrow, and loneliness. Devastation. Heartbreak.

A profound sense of loss and sadness…and he had no idea where it came from. It felt old, though. Like it had been there nearly all his life, but had gone unrecognized until now. Until whatever it was that had happened the last two days had swept away the cobwebs from that particular moment…or sense of a moment – but then whatever had happened then spirited away the actual memory, leaving behind only baseless emotions that Jack didn’t know where to put or what to do with.

All he knew for sure was the loss of that time was frightening – even for him – and it was what kept him awake.

Jack stretched his body, turning his head to stare at the man who lay beside him, breathing deeply as he slept, unbothered by the kinds of thoughts that kept Jack from joining him in dreamland.

Ianto’s diary, which Jack had found on the floor of the Hub after they’d all “woken up”, had proved interesting reading. He’d felt a little bad for invading Ianto’s privacy like that, but he honestly hadn’t realized what the book was until he’d already read a few pages. Most of it was Torchwood-related but there were a few entries about Jack. Ianto had written things that made Jack smile, that made him warm inside. He had written things about Jack that he hadn’t said to him – but things that even still Jack had known.

Ianto trusted him implicitly, and respected him, and yearned for his approval. Ianto thought he might love him.

That’s what he had written.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to Jack. Ianto wore his heart on his sleeve, as much as he might think he was good at hiding his feelings he really wasn’t. But Jack didn’t let on, because he knew Ianto found a certain comfort in believing he hid well his feelings, even if it wasn’t true.

Jack supposed it might be cruel – but he also figured Ianto would find the news that Jack had known most of those things already a bit uncomfortable and for Jack, that was the crueler thing. He didn’t want to say or do anything to bring Ianto pain, or hurt, or embarrassment which was why the missing time of the last two days bothered him – particularly with regards to Ianto because the flash of memory of the other man, so upset and devastated was weighing heavy on Jack – even days later. He cared a lot for the younger man, and thought maybe it could be more, if he let himself go there. He knew he easily could because Ianto was easy to care about – easy to love.

Jack had spent his many, many, _many_ , years on Earth avoiding love. His precious few experiences with it had been painful and he knew they would only continue to be so – but he kind of liked the idea of Ianto loving him. He kind of thought maybe he could allow himself to feel deeper about him in return. He was arrogant enough to believe he could resist the slippery slope falling in love – but he questioned if he really wanted to. Love was wonderful, and easy, and comfortable and something he craved constantly. But their work with Torchwood was dangerous, and Jack, being immortal, wasn’t sure he could handle letting himself go to that next place and then watching Ianto die. He knew he would eventually watch Ianto die – hopefully an old man – but the alternative was so much worse. Jack had buried many lovers, some of them he had been in love with. It always hurt. But the joy that came with being in love was addictive, and Jack had been without that particular drug for so long…

Jack let his eyes take in the naked form of the younger man. He was on his back, his head turned towards Jack while his arms rested peacefully across his navel. His right leg was slightly bent, his knee touching Jack’s thigh.

Ianto looked peaceful, his expression relaxed, a slight smile on his lips as he slept serenely beside Jack.

They’d spent hours together in bed – Jack forcing Ianto to actually get out the damned tape measure he’d written about in the pages of his journal. It would figure that the one entry Jack read in Ianto’s diary before he stopped himself had been about a night when, after several rounds of hot sex, and after Jack had fallen asleep, Ianto had actually measured Jack’s dick – both the length and circumference. Jack wondered how he hadn’t woken up, with Ianto’s nimble fingers touching him, fondling him that way. He was starting to get hard just thinking about it…

Tonight, he’d had Ianto measure him when he was fully erect and engorged. It wasn’t something he’d done himself – measuring – but he was curious, both to see how disparate the two measurements were, flaccid to erect, and to witness Ianto’s embarrassment as he was reminded once again of Jack’s discovery of his little dirty secret. Though really, he didn’t mind knowing Ianto was touching him and looking at him when he was asleep.

Of course the measuring had quickly turned to several rounds of sex and now, with Ianto sleeping, Jack had a moment to reflect. Ever since he’d returned from his trip with the Doctor he’d had this sense of foreboding. He couldn’t quite place it, but it grew a little more each day. Something was coming, he just wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure when.

Ianto groaned and opened sleepy eyes, turning his head to look at Jack.

Licking his lips, Jack grinned at the other man, a though occurring to him as his dick began to throb with a growing need.

“If it isn’t sleeping beauty,” he whispered, his hand lighting upon Ianto’s chest and slowly traveling down to the other man’s groin.

Ianto arched his back and sighed as Jack’s hand fondled his dick and balls.

“I have an idea,” Jack moved his mouth closer to Ianto’s ear, sticking his tongue out to lightly lick along the outer rim while his index finger stroked the sensitive perineum eliciting a gasping moan from Ianto.

“I think we need to measure you now.” 


	19. Carry On - Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between Reset and Dead Man Walking
> 
> See notes at the end for more info!

He’d wanted to ride alone. To be the chauffeur for the body. Ianto wouldn’t let him though, and in the end Jack just didn’t have the energy to argue the point. So he let Ianto take the keys from him, and he let Ianto (and Gwen) load the body into the back of the SUV. He let Ianto take care of it all.

There wasn’t room for them all in the car with Owen’s bloody body lying prostrate on the floorboards, so the others were going to “borrow” a car from The Pharm and follow them out.

When Ianto started up the SUV, Jack immediately felt the thrumming of the engine beneath him. It’d been so long since he’d recognized the sensation; it would seem he’d forgotten how to notice the small things, the sights and sounds and sensations of everyday life – like the feel of a car running beneath you.

Nothing like the death of someone close to put things back in perspective.

The SUV slowly pulled away from the burning effigy of The Pharm and watching it burn Jack had to wonder if it was a losing battle, this “quest” he was on. He sure as hell wasn’t the Doctor. But if he didn’t do it, who would? There’d be no one to protect the Earth, or conversely, to protect the aliens. They all weren’t bad…it wasn’t their fault they got sucked through the damned rift…it wasn’t their fault that humanity chose to exploit and torture them for their own purposes.

The glow of the burning Pharm faded and darkness descended. They were in the small stretch of “no-man’s land” between the compound and Cardiff. It was late and Jack felt weariness in his bones. Not since….well, not since Abaddon had he felt such despairing sadness.

Jack let his eyes wander to the clock on the SUV dash – it glowed red, 10:30.

It was 10:30 at night and Owen was dead. Jack’s head fell against the headrest of the seat and he closed his eyes, exhaling a long, shuddering sigh.

“Jack?”

Ianto’s voice, soft, cautious, gentle, broke the heavy silence that had been permeating the SUV.

“I’m fine,” Jack replied automatically, turning his head slightly to the left and gazing out the window at the passing nighttime landscape. They were entering the outskirts of town and small family homes dotted the landscape. Jack found it hard to believe that beyond the confines of the SUV there were people living their lives completely unaware of the death that had just occurred.

Ianto didn’t speak again and Jack was glad. His presence was comfort enough, and maybe eventually Jack would want to talk but for now he didn’t. He was having trouble finding the words to describe the emotions he was feeling; he was having trouble understanding what this was so upsetting. Besides the obvious of Owen being a friend and a colleague.

He’d done this so many times before. But it didn’t get any easier. He didn’t know if he should be glad for that, or not. In the end it didn’t matter really, because it was still a death.

Jack had died so many times. Each death painful, and each time it happened he couldn’t help but hope that it would be the last time – because as painful as it was to die, it hurt more to come back to life.

It was a fucked up way to think about things, and Jack knew it. Particularly when he had such wonderful things in his life; like Ianto. But he hadn’t always had such wonderful things in his life and sometimes, hell most times, he’d wished it would just be over forever. He couldn’t handle any more of the life he’d been thrust into, forced to live…forever.

Forever was a big fucking word. A long time. An unfathomable amount if time. He couldn’t really wrap his mind around it and if anyone should be able to do so, it should be him. But he couldn’t, so he didn’t. The anxiety of all that endless living stretching out ahead of him was too much to bear. So he kept things in the now – he lived his life in the now.

The SUV made a slow gradual turn onto the main highway that ran through the center of Cardiff and eventually led straight to the Hub. Jack closed his eyes again and scrubbed his hands over his face before he looked at the dash once more.

The clock read 10:46 and Owen was still dead.

For a brief moment Jack wondered if he was back on that carrier, the Master torturing him with the deaths of his friends….because really, in what world was this supposed to be reality?

Jack twisted his head around to the right and over his shoulder to the black body bag that was covering the floorboards at the rear of the vehicle. It shifted slightly with the swaying motion of the car.

_I’m sorry, Owen_ , Jack thought, turning back to face forward again.

It didn’t make sense that Owen was in that bag because if Jack were honest, he would have picked Tosh or Ianto to be the first to go…not Owen…and Jack felt his gut contract painfully with the thought as he caught sight of Ianto’s profile out of the corner of his eye.

“Jack?”

This time he turned to look at the young man who had been an unexpected surprise in Jack’s life. His face was open, full of sorrow and empathy and sadness of his own. Ianto and Owen had never been friends, hell they’d barely been able to tolerate each other for much of the time they worked together. But Jack had known there was an underlying respect they each had for the other and staring at Ianto now, a man so clearly concerned for Jack’s emotional state, he could only smile.

Cardiff passed by them as they neared the Hub. Jack wondered briefly if there was some magic trick, some alien tech they could use to bring Owen back. But then he knew better. The last time they’d played God like that Suzie had nearly killed Gwen, and then there was Ianto and what he did for Lisa…still the temptation was there, gnawing at him.

If only they hadn’t gotten rid of that glove!

Jack lifted his arm and rested his hand on Ianto’s shoulder, squeezing through the layers of material. Jack never understood why Ianto insisted on dressing as he did – not that he didn’t appreciate the effort but at the moment it felt impersonal. Jack wanted to feel the warmth of Ianto’s skin beneath his hands, not all the various layers of fabric of his designer suit.

“Thanks,” Jack said simply, lifting his fingers and slowly swirling them around the hairs at the nape of Ianto’s neck.

Ianto smiled tightly and turned back to the road, steering them ever closer to the finality of Owen’s existence.

It was 10:53 now.

Jack could see the lit pillars of the water sculpture start to come into view. Nearly there now. Soon it would all be too real and soon they’d all have to face the task of reporting to Torchwood without Owen there.

Suddenly a memory came over Jack, so strong and overpowering that he released a loud laugh, eliciting a concerned glance from Ianto.

“What? Jack?”

But the images flooding Jack’s mind would not be stopped, and all he could do was laugh harder. In his mind’s eye he saw Owen fiddling around with that damn alien scalpel, trying to impress Martha. He saw Owen shoot at the paper cup, missing, and he saw Ianto’s reaction, a loud yell and a glare as the blast had flown past his ear to explode across the room. It was everything he loved about his team, and everything he had loved about Owen, and everything he loved about Ianto.

“It’s just…just a memory,” Jack finally panted, wiping tears from his eyes and he wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t from crying, not laughing.

Ianto smiled somewhat stiffly at Jack before he steered the SUV into the parking garage. Jack heard Owen’s body shift noisily in the back and his laughter died a quick death as the somber reality was thrown back in his face.

They were back. The time on the clock said 11:02.

Ianto parked the SUV, turning it off and plunging them into a far deeper silence, both auditory and physically. They sat for several minutes as the engine clicked and cooled.

“I’ll help you take him in,” Jack sighed, opening his door.

“I’ll get him,” Ianto said, mirroring Jack’s actions and meeting him at the back of the SUV and blocking Jack’s hand from opening the back doors of the vehicle.

“I’ve got him Jack. You’ve got some time before the others get here. Go to the water, clear your head.”

Ianto pressed his lips to Jack’s forehead and the warmth of the gesture filled Jack with hope. Maybe all wasn’t lost after all. He still had Ianto; and Gwen and Tosh. And Martha was still here, too.

He nodded and with a sad smile, turned and headed towards the parking garage exit and the cool night air blowing in the bay. He could hear ship horns and buoys clanging. It reminded him once again of that damned glove – the one that could bring life.

And that was when he realized it. That was when he remembered.

There was another glove out there…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is only roughly 1.5 hours of time unaccounted for between the end of Reset and the start of Dead Man Walking. I debated whether to fill this gap or not and ultimately decided it needed some attention, even if only for my own desire to get the Jack and Ianto from the tragic scene of Owen's death back to the Hub. As always, thank you for reading!


	20. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between Dead Man Walking and A Day in the Death

“Do you like Godzilla?”

Jack’s fingers paused momentarily, before he resumed his work, kneading the tightness in Ianto’s shoulders. He carried so much of the weight of the world in his neck and shoulders and after everything with Owen…

“I guess,” Jack replied noncommittally. He didn’t like the tone of the question, and he wasn’t sure where Ianto was going with it.

“I remember seeing Godzilla - the original one I mean - when I was a kid. It was one of the last things I did with my father-,” Ianto cut himself off, leaning back into Jack’s fingers. He was so tense and Jack dug hard and deep, working at the knots that never seemed to get smaller or go away.

“You were living when that movie was actually made,” Ianto added, and Jack could feel new tension start to creep into his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Jack responded slowly. “What is this about?”

“Just-,” Ianto sighed, “the passing of time, you know. Growing old.”

There a long silence while Jack waited. He knew there was more – there always was more. It always came to this…

“Death.”

The word hung there, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. Jack continued to work on Ianto’s knotted muscles, considering how best to respond. He hadn’t found the _right_ way yet – no matter how many times this conversation occurred; no matter how many loves, and lovers he had to talk to about his…situation. He always ended up saying the wrong thing and hurting the other person; which was really the reason behind his decision NOT to tell. Though in this case, and in many others, it was unavoidable. Ianto knew; he’d seen. There was no avoiding it now and he thought it would likely never get any easier, either. No matter how many lovers Jack had.

 _Or will have_ , Jack thought sadly, because there always came a time, too, when he watched those he loved simply walk away from him, or die.

“How many times has it happened?”

Ianto’s question caught Jack by surprise; the number question usually came much later; but then again, Ianto, and their lives at Torchwood made this an unusual case.

“I’ve honestly lost count,” Jack replied, moving around to the front of the sofa and sitting next to Ianto.

“Best guess?” Ianto pressed and Jack smiled wryly.

“Two hundred?” He answered, knowing it was a gross underestimation.

Ianto nodded slowly.

“You’ve died twice since I’ve known you-,” Ianto paused as if a thought suddenly occurred to him, “though maybe there’s more times I don’t know about.”

Jack shook his head.

“That first time though…when Owen shot you-,” Ianto said and Jack felt his chest constrict, varying emotions coursing through him; anger, pain, sadness, love.

“Now Owen is dead. Or was dead; is he dead, or is he alive like you?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Jack thought he understood where Ianto’s thoughts were going, “Owen _is_ dead, and doesn’t eat, or sleep, or breath. He’s the walking dead I guess you could say.”

“So he’s a zombie,” Ianto dead-panned and Jack narrowed his eyes at the other man, trying to figure out just how serious he was.

“No,” Jack finally answered with a small smile, though there was no humor in it.

“But you’re alive. Actually living. And breathing,” Ianto inserted then, “not the walking dead.”

“Right,” Jack paused, “I die, but I don’t stay dead. Whatever it was that happened to me prevents me from staying dead. I revive, and it’s as though nothing is different. I still eat, and sleep, and breath.”

Jack inched closer to Ianto.

“I still have needs,” he smirked and Ianto cracked a small smile – the first Jack could recall in the last few days.

“I know you do. Sir,” Ianto replied.

“So……,” Jack put his hand out, resting it on Ianto’s leg and stroking his fingers along the sensitive area on his inner thigh.

“Let’s table this depressing discussion and maybe meet some of those needs I – and you – have?”

* * *

 

An hour later, clothes strewn across Ianto’s living room, the two men sweaty, breathing hard, and tangled up in each other on the sofa, Jack stroked Ianto’s hair. The younger man’s head was resting on Jack’s chest, his arm wrapped around his waist. There was precious little room to spare on the somewhat narrow sofa, yet even with that it felt like Ianto was holding onto Jack as if he might disappear if he were to loosen his grip even just a little.

“You’re different around Martha,” Ianto spoke quietly, his breath moving softly across Jack’s stomach, tickling the tiny hairs on his chest and navel.

“Martha makes me happy. She reminds me of him. Of happier times,” Jack answered.

“Happier?” Ianto repeated, and Jack sensed some unease in his tone.

“More carefree,” Jack clarified, uncertain how to read the stillness and silence that followed.

“Would you go back to him, if you could? To travel with him?” Ianto finally questioned and Jack shrugged.

“I’m not sure I could leave,” Jack replied, “there really is no one else to take care of the things that come through the rift.”

“Oh,” Ianto’s tone was stiff, his voice thick.

“I couldn’t leave Tosh, or Gwen. Hell even Owen needs me, especially now,” Jack paused for dramatic effect, a smile Ianto couldn’t see playing on his lips, “and you of course.”

Again Ianto didn’t respond right away and Jack wondered if he’d played the joke too far, but then he felt Ianto’s lips nibbling and kissing his chest.

“I’d miss you if you were gone,” Ianto said, his voice barely a whisper. Jack didn’t answer, letting the words envelope them as they both – exhausted from the last few days – drifted off to sleep.

Ianto stirred awhile later – maybe an hour or so. Jack had been awake for some time, he hadn’t slept long, but he also hadn’t moved so as not to disturb Ianto - even though Jack’s arms ached from the reduced bloodflow. The weight of him, the warmth of him, was comforting after the last several days. Particularly when Jack thought about how Owen would never be warm again. Or even need to feel warmth. No matter how much he wanted it – and Jack had seen enough to know Owens wants were still very much alive within him, it would never be.

 _It would have been better had he outright died_ , Jack thought grimly.

“We could handle it,” Ianto said then, his voice thick with sleep.

“You could handle what?” Jack asked, pushing aside thoughts of Owen, focusing on the man who was with him; the living, breathing man who so desperately seemed to need to feel wanted.

“The rift. The stuff that comes through. We could handle it,” Ianto yawned before continuing. ”You know, if you needed to go…or something. We’re not helpless. You’ve taught us all well,” Ianto picked up their conversation from before, not missing a beat.

Jack sighed.

“I know you’re not helpless. But-,” he paused, making an immediate decision that he hoped he didn’t regret one day, “-it’s not just things coming through the rift.”

Ianto moved then, sitting up and looking at Jack with a curious expression that seemed almost…angry? Upset? Jack couldn’t quite tell. What he did know was the vacuum of cold air filling the space between them was far less welcoming than the warmth of the other man’s skin against his.

“What do you mean,” Ianto asked, and Jack sense genuine curiosity in his tone.

Jack sat up then, too, shaking out his arms as the blood rushed back into his extremities and the painful sensation of pricks and pins started to travel up both arms.

“The rift does…other things,” Jack answered vaguely.

Ianto raised his eyebrows and waited, causing Jack to smile softly.

“Sometimes-,” he paused again, trying to figure out how to word it – he’d never talked about his before, with anyone. “Sometimes it takes people. Just randomly. It doesn’t only just bring Weevils, fish heads, and the like here, but it takes people away. Snatches them out of their lives and does…I don’t know what to them. They get returned; eventually. But they’re different. They’re changed and it’s not for the better. The rift and wherever it takes them – it ruins them.”

“Shit,” Ianto breathed and he looked properly disturbed.

“What happens to them,” Ianto questioned, “once they come back?”

Jack smiled sadly, thinking back over the years – remembering all the faces, and the names, of all the people who have been victimized by the random behavior of the rift. There were so many.

“Once I figured out how to track it-“

Jack’s phone, having been silently resting on the coffee table all evening buzzed then, startling both men.

“Martha,” Jack sighed as he reached out to silence the vibrations, setting the phone back on the coffee table.

“I managed to convince her to stay on with us a bit longer,” Jack added, recalling the conversation with some regret.

Martha had not wanted to stay. She had told Jack as much as they’d left the hospital after her recovery from old age; after Owen had killed Death. She was willing to work for UNIT, but her brush with death – not just once but twice – while working with the Torchwood team had given her reason to reconsider some of her life choices, or so she’d said to Jack. But Jack had managed to guilt her into committing to stay. Because he needed a doctor on staff – and he couldn’t trust Owen anymore; or at least he couldn’t trust him yet. Martha had responded to that, as Jack had known she would because he knew above all else she cared. She cared about Jack, and the team, and she couldn’t not help them out. It just wasn’t in her not to. So she’d agreed to stay on for a little bit longer.

Jack rolled out his own stiff neck.

“What about Owen?”

Jack sighed at Ianto’s question.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what he is anymore,” Jack said.

“But you just told me…,” Ianto trailed off before standing from the sofa and pulling on his boxer briefs.

“I don’t know what he is for Torchwood,” Jack clarified, watching Ianto start to pick up their clothes, draping the various items over the back of the armchair that sat perpendicular to the sofa.

“Until I figure out what Owen is for us – for Torchwood – we need Martha. And I’m going to need your help with Owen,” Jack turned as Ianto moved to the kitchen, putting on some water.

“I’m not sure how you think I can help with Owen. He has very little respect for me most of the time,” Ianto set two mugs on the counter, leveling his blue eyes at Jack.

“ _I_ have the utmost respect for you,” Jack murmured, moving into the kitchen and pressing himself against Ianto’s back and biting gently at Ianto’s ear lobe. He smiled as the younger man reached back and pinched Jack’s rear – hard, but not too hard.

“I’m sure you do,” Ianto turned to face Jack, a smirk on his face, the steaming tea kettle forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so long overdue. Apologies. I intend to finish this - there's only a handful of chapters left. Please bear with me! And thank you for your patience, if you're still hanging around for this one. Much gratitude to you all.


	21. Going to the Chapel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between A Day in the Death and Something Borrowed

"Are you excited?" Ianto asked, breaking the silence that had descended. He had been tasked with accompanying Gwen to pick up her wedding dress – but the silence that had descended once they’d left the safety of the Hub had been thick and uncomfortable.

He hadn’t spent any time with Gwen outside of work or without others around since…well since the month Jack had been gone. Now, with Jack back, Ianto had focused most of his attention on the other man – not that he was sorry for having done that; it just meant he felt slightly detached from the others. Not to mention the somewhat obvious unrequited crush Gwen had on Jack, and vice versa.

"Excited?" Gwen glanced at Ianto briefly before returning her eyes to the road in front of them.

"Yes. About the wedding," Ianto smirked, slightly amused by her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

She was very nearly in full panic. Was it over the dress? Or was it something else? The wedding was tomorrow – and up until this moment Ianto hadn’t seen her react in any way other than to beam with happiness. She loved Rhys, of that Ianto was certain – but he also was certain she felt a certain draw to Jack and a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if she was feeling a bit of regret that she’d never gone down that road, even for a moment.

"Right. Sure. Course I am," she rambled, offering a tiny laugh that sounded quite insincere.

Ianto didn't respond, he just looked out the passenger window at the people and places of Cardiff as they moved past. He wasn't against helping Gwen out; he was happy to do it. But the way Jack had just dismissed him from the Hub had been a little brusque. There was a discomfort in the air about the Hub - between Jack and Ianto and Gwen, and between Tosh and Owen and Gwen...the common denominator of both situations being Gwen. And while everyone was happy for her and her pending nuptials - there was a great deal of awkwardness in the congratulatory feel of it all.

Rhys, though aware of Gwen's job and what Torchwood was, wasn't aware of Gwen's lingering attraction to Jack, or of her affair with Owen; the latter of which the entire team was fully aware of. And if Ianto was honest, they were all keenly aware of her attraction to Jack, too. Ianto wasn't sure that anyone who came into contact with Jack didn't, even if just for a moment, find themselves attracted to him. He had that effect. Or Ianto thought he did, anyway. Still, it was awkward. And yet he now found himself helping her with a last minute errand - and he couldn't help but wonder why Jack was so quick to volunteer him.

"Thanks for coming anyway," Gwen said, turning into the shopping center housing the boutique where she had ordered her dress.

"My pleasure," Ianto politely responded.

"I'm sure this is the last thing you want to be doing right now," she smiled at him, parking the car and turning off the ignition.

"It’s fine. I helped my sister quite a bit with her wedding," Ianto offered.

"Oh?" Gwen replied as she climbed out of the vehicle.

"Yep," Ianto sighed before he climbed out and followed her into the bridal shop.

Ianto’s job, according to Jack, was simply to be the moral support. Apparently Gwen had scheduled and rescheduled this appointment at least six times over the last three weeks. There was no more putting it off though – the wedding was the next day and if Gwen didn’t pick up her dress then she wouldn’t have one at all…

Ianto couldn’t help but wonder why Gwen had been putting off this errand. It wasn’t going to take long (he hoped) and she was constantly and consistently (almost obnoxiously) effusive about her love for Rhys and her desire to marry him.

So why the avoidance?

Ianto entered the boutique to find Gwen and the sales clerk already talking.

“We can try the dress on one last time, but there is of course no time left to do any last minute alterations should they be needed,” the young, dark-haired, dark-skinned clerk smiled quite saccharinely at Gwen. Ianto though he heard a hint of condescension in her tone.

“Fine,” Gwen nodded seemingly un-phased by the clerk’s slight uppity rudeness.

“You’re not her betrothed are you?” the woman turned to Ianto with a stern look on her face.

“No. No, m’am. Just a friend,” Ianto smiled broadly and the clerk’s look softened.

“I just want to preserve the special day for you,” she said to Gwen.

“Right. Fine,” Gwen repeated, glancing at Ianto with a tight-lipped smile before following the retreating figure of the clerk towards the back of the shop. There were several curtained off cubes – dressing rooms Ianto guessed.

Following just behind the women, Ianto took in the colorful, couture gowns that hung around him.

It had been just over a year since…since his heart had broken in ways he had thought irreparable. But he’d come back from that pain; he’d healed. Dare he say he might have found love again, if he allowed himself to call it that – and he wanted to, but he was also scared.

With Lisa it had been easy (well, before she had been half converted to a Cyberman); with Jack things were a lot more complicated – on nearly every level, not the least of which was Jack’s immortality, if that was even the right term for it.

The bigger question was, did Ianto even have a future with Jack? Could _anyone_ really have a future with a man like him? Surely, someday Jack could grow bored of Ianto, or tire of him, or stop finding him attractive as he got older, as his age made him gray-haired, and wrinkled, and flabby…  Jack had claimed to have had relationships in the past, but Ianto grew more certain, the more he grew to know Jack, that they’d been short-lived.

Ianto could see himself with Jack, though; for a long time to come. He could see them living together, having a life together. A future. The problem was Ianto didn’t really know what Jack saw, or even wanted – and he was more than slightly terrified to ask him for fear of ruining what happiness they did have together, in this moment in time. 

“Ianto?”

“Oi, what do ya think?” Gwen was standing in front of Ianto, her gown snuggly hugging every curve of her body perfectly. The dress had been altered and fitted to Gwen’s specifications months ago, but a final had never been done until now. Ianto was sure most women didn’t fit perfectly into their wedding dress, months after the measurements and alterations had been made.

“Fits perfect,” he smiled and nodded, appreciating the beauty.

“You look beautiful,” he added as she grinned back at him, showing more excitement for her impending nuptials then he’d seen from her since she had come bounding into the Hub the morning after Rhys had proposed. Ianto was glad – Gwen should be happy. She was getting everything she wanted, and while it was hard not to feel just a little bit jealous, he was also very happy for her, too.

She would be a gorgeous bride, of that Ianto was certain. Even now, hair down and slightly windblown, makeup simple and barely there, she was glowing, beaming brightly with obvious joy and happiness – a stark contrast to her mood from when they’d first walked into the store.

“I’m surprised,” the clerk smiled, her snarky attitude gone, replaced by obvious awe, “this rarely happens. Most of the time there’s some sort of alteration needed.”

The clerk circled Gwen, tugging at the skirt, eyeballing the zipper, “you’ll have to tell me your secret,” she added, offering a wink at Ianto.

“Active lifestyle,” Gwen smiled widely as she shared a knowing look with Ianto. The clerk just laughed.

Ianto resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If only this young woman knew the truth – if only she knew that just a few days earlier the entire team had been hunting literal Death in a hospital. If only she knew what kind of things went bump in the night out there – the Weevils and the rift. If only she knew about Owen. A dead man, living. But not living. If she knew those things she wouldn’t laugh.

Just then Ianto’s phone chirped and with an apologetic smile and nod, he left the store, taking the call just outside.

A few minutes later Gwen, a large white garment bag draped over her arm, met him outside.

“Jack needs us back at the Hub,” Ianto said as they both climbed into the SUV.

“Thank you again for coming with me,” Gwen said, pulling back out into the building afternoon traffic of Cardiff.

“Ya, no problem,” Ianto replied.

“Really, Ianto,” Gwen said and out of the corner of his eye Ianto saw her turn to look at him. He turned towards her with a smile.

“I know, and it’s fine,” he reiterated.

“This was supposed to be something I should have done ages ago with my girlfriends,” Gwen went on, turning her attention back to the road, “but something always kept coming up. I think they all might think my wedding is a big lie.”

She gave a nervous giggle and Ianto smiled, staring out the windows at the passing traffic.

“It’s just…,” Gwen’s tone turned more somber, and Ianto glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead, one hand on the wheel while her other elbow was propped up on the window ledge, her hand holding her slightly titled head.

“I’ve been fantasizing about my wedding for most of life. In one way or another,” she bit her lip as she paused, “when I was younger it was all about finding my Prince Charming. The perfect man to sweep me off my feet. Later, after I met Rhys and realized there was no such thing as a perfect man, it became about being with the person who accepted me for me, and loved me for me, and made me happy.”

She grinned widely then, straightening her head and placing her second hand on the steering wheel before turning to Ianto again.

“Know what I mean?”

Ianto smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything more. He’d dreamed some of those same dreams, once upon a time. Certainly not in the same way, and definitely not until after he’d met Lisa and had realized he’d wanted to be with her forever. But of course that had not gone at all as planned or expected…

Looking out the front of the car at the traffic ahead of them, Ianto felt Gwen’s eyes on him. He knew she was looking for more of a response from him – but Ianto couldn’t give her more. He was not some “Cinderella”, and Jack certainly was not his “Prince Charming”. He wasn’t sure what Jack was – other than someone who made Ianto happy; and for the time being that was enough. It had to be enough.

“I just want everything tomorrow to be perfect,” Gwen sighed a moment later, sounding wistful.

Ianto sincerely hoped it would be perfect. Goodness knows they all deserved a perfect, happy day.


	22. Jolly Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Something Borrowed and From Out of the Rain

"I saw you two dancing", Tosh’s voice broke the silence of the empty Hub and startled Jack out of his meditation.  

Owen was gone. Ianto was home. Jack thought Tosh had also gone - but there she stood before him, still in the dress she'd worn to the wedding.

They'd all just spent the last many, MANY hours cleaning up the mess left in the wake of Gwen and Rhys' wedding and reception. The happy couple were now off to Paris for their honeymoon, upon Jack's insistence (though he hadn't had to try very hard to convince Gwen to go). It had taken the rest of the team most of the night and into the wee hours of the morning to get all the confused and sleepy wedding guests to their respective rooms in the hotel, or home in some cases. On the drive back to the Hub everyone had been silent in what seemed to be content exhaustion from their efforts. Back at the Hub Jack had volunteered to do the paperwork (eliciting a raised eyebrow from Ianto, he'd noticed) and if he were honest he was looking forward to some silence and solitude to reflect on the events of the day and evening.

Jack eyed Tosh with bemusement. She stood in the doorway to Jack’s office, arms crossed, smirking at him.

"Everyone saw," she smiled wider her face taking on a dreamy, far-away look, "and while almost everyone will have forgotten. I know I never will."

Jack leaned back in his chair, barely registering the sound of it groaning under his shifting weight. Tosh moved further into the room, her arms dropping to her sides as her expression lightened.

"It was beautiful, Jack," she beamed, “you were beautiful. Both of you.”

He and Ianto had danced much of the night - and they'd looked fantastic, of that Jack was absolutely certain. It was the most public and romantic display they'd had together - at least in front of their friends and coworkers.

It had been a step forward in their relationship - though they hadn't spoken of it yet; but even Jack knew there had been something far more intimate in their actions; something more purposeful – more personal and lasting. Jack wasn’t entirely sure if it had been Ianto’s courage to cut in on Jack’s dance with Gwen – that had certainly been quite the turn-on – or something else that now, in the hours afterwards, he found he felt different about it all somehow. They’d been having fun before, and yes there were real feelings there (Jack would never deny he cared a hell of a lot about Ianto), but he never planned for what he and Ianto shared to be anything more than fun. He’d gone down that road and it was too painful when it all came crashing down – which it ALWAYS did.

Jack, who would live forever, was cursed to constantly be in pain over loves had and lost and now he knew for a fact he was headed to the same end with Ianto. But truth be told, he didn’t want it any other way.

But maybe that’s why Jack was purposefully wasting time at the Hub, avoiding the very real emotions and feelings that Tosh’s observations were reflecting.  Where he should be was back at Ianto’s flat, fucking the younger man with everything he had in him.

"What are you still doing here, Tosh?" Jack asked, the evening’s events playing in an endless loop in his head. It had been a nearly perfect evening…

"I wanted to talk to you; alone," she answered, suddenly sounding quite ominous as her tone shifted from playful to serious.

Jack observed as she moved further into the room before she perched on the edge of one of the chairs that sat in front of Jack's desk.

"Okay,” Jack said slowly, leaning forward and the chair beneath him groaning again. He rested his forearms on the cracked, stained blotter on his desktop.  

"I saw the way you held and danced with Ianto – and it was magical. But it made me a bit sad if I’m being honest because I also saw the way looked at Gwen," Tosh said, and Jack felt a slight flutter in his chest, his heartbeat increasing for just a brief moment.

"You and Gwen have been playing this strange game of -,” Tosh paused for a moment, “-of I don’t even know what. Will they, won’t they I suppose? From day one I saw it, and last night I saw it again. But it’s not fair to Rhys, and it’s not fair to Ianto. I sincerely hope Ianto didn’t see the look I saw because I know it would hurt him deeply. As it should. If I saw someone I _cared_ about looking at another person like you looked at Gwen I think my heart would break into a million pieces.”

The intimation behind Tosh’s intonation on the word ‘cared’ was not lost on Jack – and he knew she was right. He had been unfair to Ianto, both last night and for months. Ever since Abaddon. And he’d been unfair to Gwen (and Rhys, too). It wasn’t that he was completely oblivious of this truth – rather he thought it part of his charm. He flirted, and he felt attraction, but that didn’t mean he didn’t _care_ about Ianto. That didn’t mean he would sleep with every person to return a flirtatious look or comment, or who seemed to be attracted in return. If that were the case he and Gwen would certainly have fallen into bed together months ago – maybe even the first night they met.

But that didn’t invalidate the fact that the attraction existed. Gwen sparked in Jack all the things he loved about life and humanity. Ianto did, too – but it was more subdued and proper, less spontaneous (at least at first). Gwen on the other hand was out there, unafraid and unfiltered and unrestrained. It was an unbidden attraction, what he felt for her – but it was there and he thought it probably always would be.

That didn’t mean what Tosh said wasn’t true; because it was. All of it.

After a few moments of heavy silence, Tosh stood and with a gentle smile she silently retreated. A few moments later Jack heard the sounds of the main entrance door rolling open, than closed again.

Leave it to Tosh to drop a truth-bomb and then leave Jack to reassemble the pieces.

* * *

 

"I don't need all this, Jack," Ianto smiled appearing nervous, or cautious. Jack couldn’t tell which.

Ianto was indicating towards the large, four-poster, King size bed blanketed with red and pink and white rose petals. The scent was overwhelming, and if not for the open window and the slight breeze stirring the air they might both have choked on the perfumed aroma in the room.

“I’m not sure this is your style,” Ianto arched a brow at Jack, “I’m not sure  it’s mine, either,” he added.

Ianto wasn’t wrong – but this overnight trip away from Cardiff and Torchwood and the Rift was desperately needed. Not just because of what Tosh had said to him after Gwen’s wedding – but because Jack was invested in Ianto and he wanted – nay, needed – to communicate that. And they deserved a break; Ianto deserved a break, even if was just one night off.

“I thought we could do with some time away from the Hub, and work,” Jack shrugged, smirking.

Ianto nodded at Jack, “this is highly suspicious though,” he added and Jack laughed.

“No ulterior motives – unless you count wanting to get you out of that suit as soon as possible so I can fuck your brains out,” Jack murmured as he moved to within a few inches Ianto, his hand reaching down to squeeze Ianto’s crotch.

“I, uh, yes, okay,” Ianto breathed and Jack felt Ianto’s dick swell even as he cupped it, squeezing it gently and stroking Ianto’s balls with his thumb.

"We can do that back in Cardiff. I like spending time with you," Ianto added, panting, "you and the tape measure; or the stop watch. Even you cheating at strip hide and seek."

“Mmmmhmmmm,” Jack crooned as Ianto continued to swell and harden in his grasp.

“I don’t mind the cheating,” Ianto whispered, leaning his head back slightly.

Jack leaned his head forward and nuzzled his lips at the edge of Ianto’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe before he whispered into his ear, “I have something new.”

Ianto gasped loudly as Jack gave one last, hard squeeze of his cock and then stepped back.

The other man, adorably Jack thought, was fighting hard to maintain his composure. His cheeks were flushed and Jack could clearly see his growing erection through his trousers.

“What? Uh, what’s new?” Ianto stammered, crossing his arms in front on him and shifting slightly on his feet.

Jack grinned widely, pulling a small case from his pocket.

_Two hours later…_

Jack had seen himself on tape before – several times. In fact, he wasn’t entire sure a person couldn’t possibly find him on a gay porn site, if they knew where to look…but seeing himself through Ianto’s eyes was an entirely new experience.

He’d insisted Ianto wear them first – Jack was narcissistic in that demand and he would never pretend otherwise. Trying out the contacts was purely selfish – but Ianto seemed oddly relieved.

Jack set up a laptop on the nightstand, one that he could look at as he rode Ianto to climax. It was strange – a bit like fucking himself? But it was also the most erotic and erogenous thing, too, seeing himself react in real time to Ianto’s thrusts, and touch, and kiss.

Seeing himself that way, watching himself from that unique perspective, sitting atop one of the most beautiful men he’d known and would likely ever know, caused Jack to feel a true moment of insignificance. It was a feeling he’d not had since long before he’d ever first met the Doctor – and certainly long before his eternal life was a thing.  But seeing how he looked while he made love to this other man, and seeing it from Ianto’s perspective, made it clear to him how precious the moment was. How everything in life was fleeting – a moment there and gone never to be recovered. His time with Ianto was precious and to be treasured and shared and treated with the utmost respect and reverence. Jack might be an eternal being, but that moment wasn’t, and Ianto wasn’t, and their time together wasn’t.

It was in that moment that Jack committed to himself to put Gwen, and any possible lingering thoughts and feelings for her, in his past. To lock her away and never return to that well again. It was pointless – when he had in front of him such beauty and wonder and joy as Ianto.

There was no need for anyone else. 


	23. The Tape Measure, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between From Out of the Rain and Adrift

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. There could be no disputing that fact – unless you were Jack Harkness in which case you take the most circuitous and cumbersome route, if only to be contrary – and then declare it the shortest and easiest (and most right) path after the fact.

Maybe Ianto was being unfair – he could almost argue he was, based on the life Jack had lived; undoubtedly the man struggled with the straight line – the right course of action - sometimes. So maybe it was all to add a little spice, and excitement to his life? But if that were the case, it would make Jack crueler than even Ianto could believe him to be.

Sighing Ianto pulled open the door to the corner market, a bell jangling and signaling his arrival. He offered a cursory nod to the clerk as he headed straight for the cooler holding the alcohol.

He was angry; and frustrated; and irritated.

The entire argument had stemmed from Ianto’s question. It had been weighing on him for awhile, the fact that the rift sometimes took people from this world and when (or if) they were eventually returned they were either dead, or permanently damaged. Jack had told him about this rift behavior some time ago, but they hadn’t talked about it again since and the more Ianto thought about it, the more questions he had.

After what had happened with the Night Traveler’s at the Electro – his interest and curiosity were piqued. All the people who had died because of what amounted to a haunted film – it was unfair and unjust and unexplainable. All those families who lost loved ones for essentially no reason at all. It was almost too much the more Ianto thought about it. And all he could do was compare it to the seemingly random behavior of the rift; it, too, stole people with no prejudice.

Ianto supposed he was looking for some sort of meaning; some validation that Torchwood was doing good and not just burying people after the fact and without explanation to those left behind. Some validation that what he and the others did every day mattered. He was struggling and so he started asking questions to Jack.

At first Jack had been receptive to Ianto’s inquiries and reciprocated by asking more about Ianto’s trips to the theatre as a child with his father; but as Ianto’s questions began to dive deeper into the morality of what Jack was doing – about what happened to the people, and their families, when they came back damaged and harmed and unwell – Jack had grown defensive and angry. After Ianto questioned the methods Jack used to lock-up those poor damaged souls, without telling friends or family anything about them, Jack had grown belligerent. He had angrily railed against Ianto, told him he didn’t understand and that there were certain truths that fundamentally had to be hidden from people; that there were things in the Universe no one should have to face, or know, or even suspect of existing. That his reactions were right, and just, and there was no room for questioning  because he, Jack, knew best.

Ianto was angry, and felt incredibly hurt by Jack’s anger and cruel words – at his insinuation that Ianto’s voice, his opinion, didn’t matter at all. So he’d walked out, telling Jack he needed some air.

Now at the corner marker, Ianto scanned the bottles in the single refrigerator with purpose, cursing under his breath that the market sold only cheap beer. But it was the middle of the night and this was his only option.

None of the choices were ideal, but Ianto was determined to get something – having made up his mind to do so and too stubborn to return to his flat empty handed.

The bell over the door sounded then, indicating another person coming in, and Ianto hoped it wasn’t Jack. They didn’t need to continue their “discussion” in public. He heard the dull tone of the bored clerk say hello and then heavy footsteps as the new person walked further into the market

“Eh, Ianto! What’re ya doin’ here?”

Ianto, who had been focused steadily on the contents of the market cooler, let his eyes refocus on the reflection of the man who stood behind him…

 _Rhys_.

Ianto turned towards him with an inward sigh.

“Looking for some libation,” Ianto offered a tight-lipped smile.

Rhys nodded with a knowing look on his face and Ianto felt a flash of annoyance.

“I get ‘cha,” Rhys leaned in and nudged Ianto with his elbow, “trouble in paradise.”

Ianto closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Lover’s quarrel,” he continued.

Ianto stared at him, shaking his head slightly.

“Had plenty of those myself,” Rhys chuckled.

When Ianto didn’t respond, Rhys titled his head slightly and then nodded.

“Ah, but it wasn’t you, then. It was Jack,” he nodded his head slowly, “yep. I get it. That man’s nothing but trouble.”

“What’d he do to ya? Or is it too demented to discuss? Was he too raunchy in the bedroom?” Rhys winked and Ianto crossed his arms in front of him. This entire conversation was spiraling out of control at an astonishing rate.

“No. Actually-,” Ianto paused, not relishing the idea of sharing anything remotely personal – like he and Jack – with the man married to Gwen. It felt gossipy and wrong, and the last thing he wanted was for Rhys to run home and tell Gwen all about it.

“It was just an argument. Work-related,” Ianto said, settling on a half-truth.

Rhys nodded, but the look on his face indicated to Ianto that he didn’t quite believe him.

“Well I’ve had plenty a those, too,” Rhys said, moving past Ianto then towards the refrigerated cooler with the milk and pulling out a pint. “Gwen doesn’t much like to tell me about Torchwood – she says something about keeping our home ‘clean of that crap’ or some such nonsense. I still ask though. It’s important to know what’s going on in your partner’s life and I want to know how Gwen’s days are. So I can help her deal with it if I can. Ya know? Should be the same for you, even if you two work together.”

“It can be like pulling teeth some days to get anything outta Gwen but I just want to help her deal with it is all. After handling that awful space whale with you all, and then after the mess with the wedding… well,” Rhys shook his head, “I know working for Torchwood can be a lot more emotionally draining than she let’s on sometimes.”

Ianto dropped his arms back to his sides with a slight nod. He was lucky to have Jack to talk to, to confide in – and he was incredibly lucky Jack trusted him enough to confide in him, too.

“Yeah, right,” Ianto offered a slight smile before he moved past Rhys towards the door calling over his shoulder, “thanks for the chat.”

“Uh, anytime?” Rhys replied and then Ianto was out the door and on his way back to his flat.

* * *

 

Approaching his building after leaving Rhys at the market, Ianto looked up to see all the lights in his flat on. It would seem Jack had been waiting for him. Ianto considered what he would do; what he would say. He and Jack had never really argued in this particular way before and it had felt different than any other disagreement they’d had in the past. Ianto realized it was because he had felt a real sense of betrayal in Jack’s dismissive behavior. His opinion, which Jack had always valued and validated in the past, had meant nothing to him in this case. Jack had belittled him, and embarrassed him, and it had hurt.

Ianto was about to enter the building when he saw Jack, fully dressed with great coat and everything, come striding across the small lobby and out the doors.

“Are you leaving?” Ianto blurted, a slight panic seizing his chest. He was angry, and he needed Jack to understand why – but the last thing he wanted was for the other man to leave.

“I saw you coming,” Jack indicated up towards the windows of Ianto’s flat, “thought I’d come down and talk. I wasn’t sure you’d even want me to stay so -,” he indicated towards himself, “I prepared just in case.”

Ianto shook his head and considered his words.

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to hear me, and understand what I am saying, and to take me seriously. I don’t want to feel belittled, and admonished,” Ianto said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“You made me feel like shit, Jack,” Ianto added, staring into Jack’s blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jack replied and Ianto sighed – he didn’t sound entirely sincere.

“I am,” Jack insisted, his tone softer.

“I know,” Ianto shrugged. “This situation is just total bullshit.

“There has to be a better way,” Ianto persisted, trying to make Jack see his perspective.

“Ianto. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But there is no better way. Not from my point of view,” Jack raked one hand through his already disheveled hair, the other perched on his hip.

“I’m from the future-,” his tone altered slightly, an undercurrent of pleading slightly evident and catching Ianto off guard.

“I’m from the future,” he repeated, “but I’ve also lived through 200 years of Earth’s history. I’ve seen things no one alive now will ever see. I’ve lived experiences no one alive now will ever live. And they shouldn’t. I am the only person who will ever have this mixed perspective of the future and the past. Except maybe the Doctor – but even he didn’t _live_ in it like I did.”

“I feel like I have the right knowledge and qualifications to make the decisions I make with regards to this rift, and these people. I feel like I’m the _only_ one who can.”

Ianto sighed. It was obvious they were talking in circles – but at least they weren’t arguing any longer. And really the problem wasn’t that Ianto didn’t agree with Jack – because Jack was uniquely (and tragically) qualified to run Torchwood and make the tough calls – but that didn’t mean he was absolutely correct all the time. That was the fact Jack seemed to be downplaying.

“Fine,” Ianto shrugged in temporary defeat. “I’m tired of arguing about this and it’s obvious you aren’t going to change your mind so let’s just agree to disagree.”

“I hate that saying,” Jack said softly.

Ianto shrugged again – he didn’t know what else to say. Jack wasn’t listening to him, or taking his objections seriously and he didn’t know what else to do.  They disagreed – and if they didn’t agree to simply move on, this disagreement could ruin a really wonderful thing between them and Ianto didn’t want that. He valued Jack’s place in his life – a lot. He didn’t agree with all his policies or his moral decisions but that was certainly true for a lot of people and relationships. It was no reason to let something that made him happy 99% of time get trashed…and maybe over time Jack would soften to Ianto’s entreaties, because Ianto was not going to give up trying to make Jack see there could be another way.

“I do hear you, Ianto,” Jack added, moving closer.

“Do you? Really?” Ianto questioned, not with malice or anger but with genuine concern. Jack had always been the leader, the one in control and Ianto couldn’t help but wonder how much of his stubbornness with regards to this situation had to do with being afraid or unwilling to relinquish the total control he had over what happened to the people taken by the rift.

“Yes,” Jack stated emphatically, “I do.”

“We’re not going to solve this problem right now, tonight,” Jack said – echoing some of Ianto’s thoughts, “But I _have_ heard what you’ve said and I _will_ think about it. I will,” Jack moved closer, his expression changing and a playful smile playing on his lips.

“Right now I just want to table this and take you back upstairs because you’ve got me so wound up and turned on. Can we maybe do a bit of measuring for old times’ sake?”

Jack flashed a wide grin and with a wink he reached a hand out and traced a soft line down Ianto’s jaw over to his lips before he took another step closer and leaned in, replacing his finger with his lips. Ianto welcomed the kiss – drank it in greedily and relished the thrill and flush of emotions is stirred in him. Nothing and no one had ever made him feel the way Jack did – and Ianto finally, fully realized in that precise moment that he loved the other man; totally and completely, flaws and all. He also realized that it would likely take his own death to force him from Jack’s life – he would never leave him voluntarily. Ianto only hoped that moment, his death, was in a much distant future time and place.

“Just so we’re clear, the discussion isn’t over,” Ianto breathed when Jack pulled away.

“Of course not,” Jack whispered, his head shaking even as he offered an impish grin.

“And this doesn’t mean I will accept your answer and stop challenging you to find another way,” Ianto added.

“I never want you to stop challenging me in anything,” Jack whispered into his ear before he bit softly at Ianto’s earlobe.

Ianto couldn’t help but smile and without a word he moved past Jack and entered his building, hearing Jack following closely behind.

* * *

 

“Ianto?” Gwen’s voice echoed through the cages situated beneath the main level of the Hub.

Ianto looked up from the spot where he was sitting inside one of the empty cages and a few moments later Gwen appeared at the open entrance.

“What’re you doing down here?” Gwen came a few steps into the cage – in her hands was a folder, stuffed thick with papers.

“Taking a break. Thinking about some things,” Ianto nodded to the folder in her hands, “what’s that?”

“Oh,” she half-shrugged, “I was trying to cross reference this with some older cases and I got lost somewhere around the third redirected numbering system. I was hoping you could help me track down what I need.”

Ianto stood slowly, nodding.

“Yeah, sure,” he moved towards the entryway where Gwen still stood.

A few minutes later they were at the door to the archives, and Ianto was studying the complicated list of case numbers that Gwen had tracked – some of the cases were over 100 years old and still not part of the updated filing system Ianto had started to integrate.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asked as Ianto led them into the archives towards the older case numbers.

“Rhys said he saw you at the market last night at like, four in the morning?”

“Yeah, fine,” Ianto replied automatically, wondering if it would work like it had before – the word ‘fine’.

“You don’t seem fine,” Gwen’s hand grasped Ianto’s bicep and she pulled him to a stop. “You seem sad.”

Ianto just stared at her, unsure of what to do, and unwilling to try and say anything.

“Jack?” She questioned and Ianto arched his brow just slightly.

“What is it? What did he do?”

Ianto shook his head and gently pulled his arm out of Gwen’s grasp before turning and continuing down the aisle towards the appropriate files.

“He didn’t _do_ anything,” Ianto said, “he’s just…he’s Jack.”

Gwen didn’t respond and Ianto stopped walking, turning to face her.

“You should talk to Rhys,” Ianto said, and if he weren’t still feeling both angry and in love with Jack at the same time he might have laughed at how high Gwen’s brow’s shot up, “he wants to talk to you – to help you deal with the shit we see in this job. So let him. Tell him about your days, and let him carry some of that burden. He’s willing, and that’s a blessing.”

Her mouth slightly agape, Gwen just nodded once. Ianto turned and continued towards their destination, and neither said another word to each other about Jack, Rhys, or relationships. 


End file.
